A new life
by Gladwags
Summary: Starling has a new life, but will it last? A new criminal is on the loose and Starling is still plagued by dreams and nightmares of things past and present,will someone help her through the night and day? Sorry I'm so bad at this. Rated T for later chap's
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, First Fan Fiction in an extremely long time. I add the usual disclaimers: Don't burn me at the stake please, I'm not making money from this… it's only a hobby and I need to go to uni' so don't arrestor prosecute me either. Please, I beg you to review; it's what keeps me going. I don't care if it's good or bad (If it's bad, please be constructive.) Anyways, hope you like it… if you do I'll continue. ;) **

The soft autumn breeze caressed her skin and hair as she ran through central park and as the sun lethargically made its way over the horizon Clarice Starling felt her skin warm, the soft rays gently hitting her body as she ran. She had always been an early riser ever since she joined the F.B.I. Once you lived that lifestyle it was hard to change back into a normal rhythm, that and the fact that she was once again plagued by dreams.

Her breathing was starting to become labored and she slowed down to a jog before stopping completely and sitting on a small bench overlooking a little pond. She loved New York, ever since the incident at the Chesapeake a year and a half ago, her life seemed to be grasping a sense of normality and things had taken a turn for the better. Yes, she wasn't with the F.B.I. anymore and yes, she had gone into a state of depression for several months after she lost her job but eventually Ardelia had snapped her out of her depressive coma, then after a few more months she had managed to get a job at NYPD. It paid better than the F.B.I and there seemed to be less back stabbing and office politics. That's how she liked it. These days she had her own team, her own office and even her own department. She took a deep breath before leaning back and closing her eyes, immersing herself with her surroundings and feeling a sense of peace finally.

The peace was eventually broken, this time by the annoying beeping of her mobile. She gave an annoyed sigh before flipping it open.

"Starling."

"Hey, Starling, I know it's early but we've got a case." The voice on the other end of the line had a slight German-English accent and forever held an edge of cynicism and coldness. "I'm at Holy Trinity Church in Manhattan, 209 West 82nd Street. We need you here stat."

"Alright, Gladwin, I'll be there in a bit."

"Okay, but don't take too long and if I were you bring some Vicks." Starling laughs slightly before saying, "I'll keep that in mind." She hangs up and looks at her watch. _5:35 am. _She sighs and starts the jog back to her apartment to shower and change before getting to work.

Hollie Gladwin had been standing outside Holy Trinity Church for over fifteen minutes before Staling arrived in her old Mustang. Gladwin had flowing blonde hair that ended at her jawline and cold grey-blue eyes. Clad in cream chinos, a white tee shirt, an old extremely authentic looking black military shirt and black canvas shoes, Gladwin looked nonchalant standing outside a murder scene having a cigarette. She shifted slightly and her shirt moved, revealing a dual underarm holster with a Walther P38 and a Steyr M1912. She never liked to be kept waiting but lived with it because there was nothing else she could do. Gladwin straightened up from leaning against the fresco of the church and walked towards Starling with the grace of a dancer.

"Hope you brought the Vicks, Starling, 'cause you're not going to like it in there." Starling tilted her head to the side in an all too Lecter-like fashion, silently questioning and trying to deduce the problem. Gladwin saw this and put out her cigarette before turning and walking with Starling into the church.

"The vicar found him this morning and called it in. If you want to talk to him he's out back…" She stopped as they started to enter the church and went over to the small metal basin filled with holy water, dipping her fingers in and crossing herself before entering the church.

"I never thought you were religious, Gladwin." Hollie smiled slightly before retorting with, "I'm not but I try to respect religion." They continued to walk down the aisle with Hollie continuing her brief on the crime scene. They came upon the alter and looking up Starling's breath caught as she spotted the hanging body of Bishop Briago, blood staining the purple silk of his robes even darker as the early morning light hits the body. His face was half decomposed and one could see his teeth on the right side of his face where the muscle had been eaten away at, his eyes bulged slightly from their sockets and blood slowly dripped down from them like tears and landed into the hands of the statue of Christ that stood beneath the hanging body.

"Jesus Christ" A small group of gossiping choir boys, a vicar and the organ player that had gathered on the far right of the room all stared in anger at Starling's blaspheming ways and had started mumbling about it amongst themselves. The odd muttering of _sinner! _And several other things could be heard from the group. The two detectives ignored it and looked at the body.

"He's probably been dead for about four days prior to being hung and the lack of a right cheek is most likely from an animal and nothing more, Starling." Hollie put a great emphasis on the last two words and hoped Clarice would get her meaning. She nodded and looked around the church.

"Where's the rest of the team?" Starling sounded slightly irritated because she had been called here urgently but the rest of the team wasn't even here yet but then she felt a slight pang of guilt for she never knew how long Gladwin had been here for.

"Well I did page them and phone them, so they should be here but…." Gladwin was interrupted by a light cough and three rowdy, rushed; rudely woken-up people stumbled into the room and both Hollie and Starling turned to face them, the heels of Hollie's shoes clicked together, Starling always found that to be a strange habit that Hollie could never stop. Clarice shook her head and sighed.

The one furthest to the left was Paul Sharpe, IT Tech, Forensic Investigator, scientist and gamer extraordinaire. Dressed clad in a grey XBOX tee with a dark blue shirt, unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up, some black chinos and those good shoes someone on the team brought him last Christmas. He was always fun to be around and never really had any problems with life. He was one of those people who took life as it come. He looked so innocent and had the face of a young boy; he looked like he didn't belong at a crime scene.

The person next to him was his good, long-time friend: James Newman. He was the more poetic of the team with a degree in Literature and Creative Writing, he was forever writing the cases they solved in his little red Moleskine notebook. James was the best forensic photographer and media expert one could hope for and best of all he had the patience of a saint, which is what you really need when working with Hollie Gladwin. He wore the usual Superdry Tee shirt, light blue skinny jeans and some white plimsolls.

The last person standing under Clarice's gaze was Potter, Maria Potter. An extremely hard working, caring but decisive person, Maria always got the job done and never let anything get in the way, well almost never. She hated the fact that Hollie would always carry those guns and thought it was completely unnecessary, what annoyed her most about it was when asked about them Hollie would never say anything or just give some inconceivable answer. Maria wore dark skinny jeans, a white Mickey Mouse tee, and her Muppets shoulder bag. She was the forensic analyst in the team and did a damn good job of it. As for Starling she was dressed casually in in stonewashed jeans, a black tee shirt and denim jacket. Her .45 strapped defensively to her side. She claps her hands together and says, "Alright, Y'all, we better get to work." Her West Virginian accent slipping out ever so slightly and she turns her back to the team. "Hollie?"

"Yeah."

"Can you do something 'bout that body?" Hollie sighs and shoves her hands in her pockets.

"Nope, not until the coroner gets here anyways, it's against procedure for me to even touch the body before they're here."

Starling sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Did you phone them?" Gladwin almost looked hurt by the accusation in her voice.

"Of course I did, but apparently they don't start work 'til 8:30. So we're gonna have to work with a dead body hanging from the ceiling." Gladwin then mumbled something under her breath before working, Starling could have sworn it was something like, _Just like old times except this time it's not me doing the hanging. _But shook it off as her imagination and got to work. Still trying to ignore the stench of rotting flesh and the dead body hanging above her and she inwardly sighed. Just then her phone started to vibrate in her jean pockets.

"Starling."

"Hello, Clarice."

**I want to thank Major and Taylor for their reviews and help with this. Okay, erm… that's it for now. If you review or P.M. me I'll write more I know it's a crap ending but wait 'n' see, Eh? Please make my day and press the magic review button, please… **


	2. Chapter 2

**Okey-doke, Chapter two :D Hope you enjoy this. (Insert Normal Disclaimers) **

"_Starling."_

"_Hello, Clarice." _Her breath stopped abruptly and she could barely speak but after a few minutes she managed to get her wits about her again.

"Doctor Lecter." It was scarcely a whisper and she stumbled before sitting down. A dark chuckle could be heard on the other end of the line before the silence was broken.

"Cat got your tongue, little Staring?" _I must be dreaming, he cannot be phoning me…_ "No, my dear, you most certainly are not dreaming." _Come on; get a hold of yourself, Starling. _

"What do you want, Doctor Lecter?"

"Always starting with the same tedious question, Clarice." He sighed deeply. "Well there are many things I want in this world but right now I want to have a chat, if that is acceptable?" Starling sighs and looks around the church, her team was getting on with the work and Hollie had gone to wake up the coroner's assistants to get the body out. _Girl, this is a bad idea, you just got a new life do you really want him to screw it up? _Her mind was screaming but her heart gently retorted, _what's wrong with having a talk with the only person in the world who knows you better than yourself? Where's the wrong in that? Oh, yeah that person is a cannibalistic serial killer! _"Well, Detective Starling, are you going to talk to the big bad wolf or not? By the way you still owe me some information, you know. Are the lambs still screaming?" _End the conversation; this isn't going to go well. _"Do they scream louder now because you've failed your dead daddy, because you don't see yourself as worthy in daddy's eyes? Come on, little Starling, make an effort to answer now." Her eyes closed. _Fuck this._ She sharply closed the phone and took a shuddering breath. _Get it together. _ Starling combed her hand back through her soft, auburn hair and stood up quickly when she heard Gladwin re-enter the church.

"Hey, Starling, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." Hollie laughed slightly, it was a well-whiskied, rough, icy laugh.

"Erm, yeah. I'm fine. Did you get the coroner?"

"It took a great deal of… coaxing but I did it." Starling tilted her head slightly at the very subtle emphasis on 'coaxing'.

"Do I even want to know?" Hollie's brow furrowed slightly and she tutted.

"No, not really but hey at least they're here and removing the body." She gave a small crooked smile and motioned to the Coroner's assistants that seemed to be having a lot of trouble getting the body down. "Hey, guys!" They looked round exasperatedly at Gladwin. "Try using the rope I gave you to support the weight of the body while the other cuts the rope that is holding him right now. Then gently lower the body into the body bag that you are just about to lay beneath him."

"Yeah, that's what we were going to do, erm Detective Gladwin." Gladwin gave a small snarky smile.

"Anyways, Starling?" Starling's head snapped up quickly. "I'm going to go back with the body and perform the autopsy, then maybe…"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to perform the autopsy?"

"Look, Doctor Johnson was called away to attend his father's funeral and these new coroner's assistants can't be trusted to fetch me my tea let alone cut into a body. I'm the only qualified doctor at the precinct right now." Starling sighed.

"Okay, whatever, but I as soon as you've finished I want you back up to the office to help with profiling."

"Yawohl." Hollie slapped herself mentally.

"What?"

"Nothing, I said I'll get on it right away." Ten minutes later the coroner's assistants had finally got the body down after a lot of commotion and instruction from Gladwin. After a long exasperated sigh, she looked towards the who seemed to have trouble lifting the body. Hollie purposefully walked over and took the head and shoulders of the Bishop. "You, Ratoff, grab the legs." The bulky, tiered man growled and took the legs. "Right, on three. One, two…three." Hollie grunted slightly as she lifted the corpse onto the roaming cadaver table. "Okay, let's go."

"Wait, Detective." The vicar stopped them abruptly just as they reached the doors. "We must give him Missa pro defunctis." Gladwin's eyes closed momentarily.

"Okay, padre. I will perform the rights before I perform the autopsy. You have my word, Father Hamilton." Father Hamilton nodded and allowed them to pass freely through the doors of the church.

The mortuary, with its bright florescent lights, white hospital walls, and great iron doors, had never been a great place to work. Most people would never go anywhere near it unless it was absolutely necessary but for some odd reason Detective Hollie Gladwin was unaffected by the fact that she was surrounded by the dead; it was almost like she was used to it. She snatched a white lab coat from the rack.

"Gently lay him down there, if you will." The diener nodded but lost his grip on the body and ended up slamming it down. "The operative word being gently."

"Will you need assistance, Doctor Gladwin?"

"No, I'll be perfectly fine. Thank you. Now, please leave."

"But Doctor Gladwin…"

"I said leave." He silently nodded and as soon as he had left Gladwin crossed herself and began to speak. "_Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine,_

_Absolve, Domine,_

_animas omnium fidelium defunctorum_

_ab omni vinculo delictorum_

_et gratia tua illis succurente_

_mereantur evadere iudicium ultionis,_

_et lucis æternae beatitudine perfrui._

_Dona eis requiem. Amen." _She inhaled deeply and calmed her mind; she pulled her phone from her pocket and started to play Beethoven String Quartet Op. 131 through the speakers as she began the hand was steady as she took the scalpel and began the first incision with great accuracy and delicacy. To an outsider her calmness about cutting into a dead body was unnatural and sociopathic, to anyone who knew her past it was essential and typical of this woman.

Just as she finished the final inspection of the body and was prepared to ring Starling and get her ass down to the morgue, the door burst open and lord and behold Detective Clarice Starling stood in the doorway.

"Hollie, did you find anything?" Hollie placed down the phone receiver and walked over to the body.

"Well I can tell you that the COD was pulmonary edema, due to inhalation of chlorine gas. However if you look at the neck, you can see this bruising, it looks like whoever killed him tried to strangle him first."

"What with? It's obviously not rope, look at the pattern it looks like a necklace or…"

"Or a rosary." Starling's eyes lit up with life as she heard this.

"So it could be one of the priests or the nuns."

"No, I don't think so. This goes way beyond simple murder, he was tortured. Look at the arms, on the right are scratches, cuts and abrasions. Over here on the left, you can see this: A burn mark, it's very recent and if you look closely, it looks like writing, but it's strange. I've only ever seen this sort of thing done in Russia. When they used to put people in the gulags, they burnt their serial number onto their arms. This looks like Latin or maybe 16th century Italian. Can you pass me the flashlight? Thanks. It says _Ego_ _Dominus Tuus._"

"What does that mean?"

"It means I am your master." Hollie sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Come on, let's go do this profile, I'll get the diener to close him up and put him in the freezer."

"Hey, Starling?"

"Yeah." Starling looked up from her notes and paper work on the file to see Hollie leaning against the doorframe of her office.

"I'm going home, I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink. Me and James are going to this new bar that opened up round the corner from my place, do you want to come?" Starling smiled.

"Well, it has been a while since I've gone out with you guys, so why the hell not."

"Great, well we're meeting at mine around 8:30ish. You know I moved right?"

"No, when did you move?"

"About a month ago. Anyway, I moved to 220 West 49th Street, Apartment B. I'll see you later." Gladwin smiled sincerely for once and left the office. Starling left about ten minutes later, walking to her old mustang that looked like an old war horse, _Maybe I should get a new car, it is over eight years old…Hmmm? _Clarice was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she never noticed the shadowy figure standing on the other side of the street, dressed in a fine black suit and black fedora. Nor did she notice the maroon eyes that bore into her like a wild fire. She felt a shiver run through her as she started the engine but put it off to the autumn chill.

**Erm, I felt like doing the bar scene in its own chapter. I'm sorry if this chapter's crap, please tell me if you think it is and I'll get on editing straight away. Please press the magic review button; it powers my computer. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey Chapter three is up. Woo and 17 days until I go back to Germany! So it might take me a while to write and upload some chapters, therefore I apologize days in advance. Also I want to thank Taylor, Major and Loving Hannibal for their support on this story, so… Thank You! Anyways on with the chapter.**

Gladwin's apartment was obsessively clean, it had dark wood flooring and simple, cream coloured walls. As Starling entered she almost felt ashamed of her own shabby apartment; littered with old takeout containers and piles of old magazines and books. She entered the living room she was stunned by its elegance. One wall was just one large window, now half covered by the privacy shades. There was a fireplace, two large brandy colour leather sofas and a glass coffee table with a small pile of various books, ranging from a rare medical text by Joseph Bell to a 1945 copy of Jeder Stirbt Für Sich Allein by Hans Fallada. James turned around to face Starling and smiled gleefully.

"I thought you weren't gonna' show. I'm glad you did; now someone can help me try an' get Gladwin drunk."

"Where is Gladwin?"

"She's in her office, sorting some business out." Starling turned around to look at the large, mahogany door that James motioned towards before turning back to look out the window onto the brightly lit up skyline of New York.

"Starling, I'm glad you made it." Starling whirled back round to see Hollie standing in the doorway to her office, closing the door and locking it. Gladwin looked towards James. "You're not trying to get Starling to help you in your scheme to get me drunk are you?" James shifted awkwardly and lowered his head, mumbling, "No, why on earth would I do that?" Hollie smiled slightly and patted James on the back.

"Don't worry, James. One of these days you may be lucky enough to succeed. Now, are we all ready? Good, let's go."

There had always been a rumor around the office that Hollie never got drunk. Tonight, however, this was proven wrong. After a few hours of playing rummy and mildly drinking, Starling and Newman decided to put a plan into action. Starling called the waiter over and gently whispered in his ear while Gladwin was busy shuffling and dealing out the cards. Then as Gladwin went to place 4 aces down, the waiter came back with a shot of bourbon for Starling, baileys for Newman and then the waiter turned to Gladwin, who all evening had been drinking Cointreau in moderation, and placed a bottle of Kümmel down on the table with a clean shot glass.

"The record for most shots before passing out is seven. This is Berlin-made Kümmel, which will…"

"Which will have a smoother taste then most because of its longer distillation period, I know." The waiter smiled.

"Do you think you can beat the record, miss?"

"Yes, but I shouldn't try."

"Come on Gladwin; let your hair down for once in your god-damned life." Hollie sighed and lifted the bottle of Kümmel pouring a shot and downing it, then another and another until almost half the bottle had gone. Her hand was shaking as she poured her tenth or eleventh shot of the strong liquor, she couldn't remember how much she had drunk so far.

"You know, I used to know a pilot in the Luftwaffe, he was the grandson of Hans-Ulrich Rudel und before every mission he used to take a shot of apple schnapps und quote the same line: Only he is lost who gives himself up for lost…. He was shot down a year after I met him." Hollie's German accent had become extremely thick and a tear was running down her cheek. "After my mum and dad moved back to Germany I was put on a schwarz-Betrieb to infiltrate the Russian nuclear rocket facilities but they got the drop wrong and the Russians dragged me away to a gulag und…und…scheiβe!" Hollie's breathing had become shallow and she swayed slightly before collapsing with a thump onto the laminate flooring. Starling and Newman, who had been thoroughly bewildered by Gladwin's rant, quickly sobered up and paid the last of the bill before trying to get Hollie off the ground and lugging her back to the apartment.

Fifteen minutes later, after a lot of swearing and cursing, they managed to get Hollie back into her apartment and rested her on one of the large sofas. Starling flopped down onto the other sofa and rubbed her eyes, she hadn't been this drunk since Delia had forced her out the house after they had fired her from the F.B.I. She groaned, then something caught her eye; a small silver key, it looked like the same one Gladwin used to lock her office. _What is she hiding in there? What business does she have to do and what was she on about during her drunk rant? _Impulsiveness and curiosity took over and Starling took the key from the floor and walked towards the mahogany door, it was engraved with intricate markings and patterns around the border. Obviously someone had taken a great care and love in making this door. She opened the door and was hit by the smell of old paper, cigars and alcohol. She entered the large open spaced study, the walls where lined with bookcases; mostly full of books but every so often you would come upon a little nick-knack or photo. There was a large fireplace in the centre of one wall and above it was a copy of Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh. Then lining the furthest wall was a large, stately window and a few meters from it rest a dark, mahogany desk.

Clarice walked over to one of the bookcases, it had a large display cabinet fitted in, inside was a Kar98k military rifle and a Bundeswehr Honour Cross, along with a small medal bar. She continued to look around the office, taking in every little detail. _Did Gladwin lie to me about her past? Why the hell would she have that rifle and the medals and... _Starling stopped as a photo caught her eye and she picked it up; it showed a group of five people, they all looked cheerful together. They wore the same uniforms; grey single pleated trousers, black riding boots, a dark grey tunic and a peaked cap with the insignia of the Deutsches Bundeswehr. The main thing that stood out to Starling was the stern looking woman with blonde hair and cold grey-blue eyes, her jacket was open and the woman wore a white vest top and black military shirt, hiding in the shadows of the shirt were two pistols. Starling gasped as she realized who this woman was and she stumbled back into the desk, dropping the photo frame which landed unceremoniously onto the hard wooden floor.

"Shit!" Starling fumbled to pick up the pieces of glass from the floor and placed the photo back on the side.

"Starling?" The words were slightly slurred but still held the edge of coldness that was forever in Gladwin's voice. Clarice turned around to see Hollie leaning on the doorway, still very drunk. "What…err, what are you doing in my office?" _Come on Starling, lie… she won't remember this in the morning._

"You accidentally knocked the photo over when you passed out again, so I, erm, I got you to rest on the sofa while I cleaned up the mess." Gladwin looked sceptically at Starling for a minute before gently nodding.

"Alright, I hope you don't mind if you let yourself out but I've got one hell of a headache and I'm going to have to get some sleep. Thanks, Starling, you're great….I'll see you tomorrow." With that Hollie stumbled out of the room and into her bedroom, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Starling let out a shaky breath and almost sprinted out of the office and down to her car. Once inside she gripped the steering wheel and rested her head against it. She felt the venomous sting of betrayal, _why couldn't Hollie tell me about the military stuff? Is she still with them? Can I even trust her anymore? _Her own subconscious replied, _Get it together, girl. Let her explain it tomorrow, I mean think rationally about this, how many war veterans do you know who go out shouting that they were in the military? You remember when granddaddy used to visit before daddy died, he never talked 'bout the war, why should she?_ Starling let out a discontented growl and slammed her hands on the steering wheel. She looked at the passenger seat. Her heart stopped. "No…"

**Please…please…please review! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Okie-doke... Hi, guys, sorry it's taken me so long to upload :'( But we can all give a big cheer for Taylor who has helped me through this evil disease we know as... WRITER'S BLOCK! (Insert evil thunder) Anyways, I hope you like the chapter and it's only seven days 'til Germany :D Haha! Right, A/N my astrix and those little squiggly lines that I don't know the name for don't want to work for my change of place/time. I will therefore put a little HL HL HL banner in the middle to replace this.  
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The rapid drumming on the door felt like a bomb going off inside her head. Gladwin groaned and rolled over, underneath the covers, desperately trying, and failing, to ignore the frantic knocking. She finally gave up and threw herself from the bed, pulling on a silk kimono and walking out the bedroom towards the bathroom. She opened the glass medicine cabinet and took out two aspirin for her hangover.

"Ein moment, bitte!" Her own shouting forced her to close her mind to the pain again. The frantic knocking continued and she walked to the front door. "Gott im himmel, this better be good." She opened the door only to be hit in the face by the hand that had been uncontrollably knocking for over half an hour. "Ahh, shit." Gladwin clenched her bleeding nose and looked at the owner of the wicked hand. "Starling?" she sighed. "Come on in. Someone better be dead or dying." she mumbled as she walked into the kitchen to make some tea, picking up a handkerchief on the way there to clear the blood off her face. "Tea?"

"Erm…I prefer coffee." Gladwin nodded, she noticed that Starling had obviously been shaken by something. She poured the freshly brewed civet coffee in two white, china mugs and brought one over for Starling.

"Black coffee, okay?" Starling nods and gently sips her coffee. "So, what's up?" Gladwin walked over to the mahogany drinks cabinet and added some Hennessy, X.O cognac to her coffee before joining Clarice on one of the sofas.

"Gladwin, I was wondering if you could tell me what this is?" With shaking hands, she handed over a small wooden box. Gladwin grabbed her reading glasses from on top of the book pile and started to examine the box.

"Hmm, mid-renaissance, very well made…that's interesting. Wait... no?" Gladwin stopped turning the box over in her hands and concentrated on one single marking in the top right hand corner.

"What, what is it?" Starling was getting anxious. Hollie looked up over her spectacles, her grey-blue eyes suddenly becoming hard, losing the twinkle of excitement they had just held.

"Where did you get this?"

"Erm, well I found it."

"Starling, this isn't something you simply find. This is one of the greatest treasures of Renaissance Florence, you don't simply find them lying on the corner of a sidewalk." Starling sighed. She knew that if she didn't tell Gladwin the truth she wouldn't get any more information on the little box. Hollie was like a human polygraph machine. There was no point lying.

"It…it was in my car after I left your apartment last night."

"Did anything else come with it?" Starling hesitated, _should I tell her?_ "Come on, it's not like I'm going to tell the police about any of this."

"Why not?"

"Because I consider you a friend and I'm generally interested in this." Starling's anger boiled as she remembered the stuff she had found in Hollie's office last night.

"If you consider me a _friend _then why don't you tell me 'bout that fucking shit in your office?" Hollie sat stock still, slightly surprised with Starling's outburst. "I mean you have a fucking military rifle in there and some god-damned war medals and that bloody photo. Why the fuck haven't you told me 'bout your fucking past?" Hollie sighed and stood silently, walking towards the office and opening the door for Starling to enter first. She did so with only a slight glare towards Gladwin, who remained impassive. Gladwin closed the door and walked over to the glass display cabinet, unlocking it and taking out the entire contents and placing them on her desk. She sat behind it and studied Clarice for a minute before opening a drawer in the desk and pulling out a small, A5 booklet and handing it to her. "Clarice, they are my military ID's and other papers."

"They're all in German."

"Yes, that's because for about 12 years of my life I was an officer in the German military. I did various missions, fought in a war, I was a medic for a while, and I was even a Fallschirmjäger…Sorry, erm…paratrooper, in English. They eventually put me in special operations and that photo," She motioned to the photograph Starling had seen the night before. "Is the only picture I have left of my old team. When I decided to take retirement I held the rank of colonel." Starling's mouth dropped slightly. "This rifle was my favourite gun, except for my Walther. It also belonged to my grandfather who was an officer during World War Two."

"And the medals?" Hollie shrugged.

"This and that; bravery above and beyond the call of duty, sharpshooting, that sort of thing. Anyway, can we please get on with your little box?" Starling nodded. "What else came with this box?" Starling, with trembling hands, brought out an elegant, cream linen envelope. On it, in a beautiful copperplate script, was one word: _Clarice. _Gladwin gently took the envelope and opened it, first looking at the signature at the bottom of the letter then quickly scanning its contents. "It's hardly surprising he gave you this." She patted the wooden box.

"What the hell is _that_?" Starling was losing patience. Hollie sighed and laced her fingers together, resting her head on the back of her chair.

"This box, Clarice, is more than a box…"

"What is it then? A fucking tardis 'cause at the moment it looks like a god-damned fucking box to me."

"Detective Starling! If you are bloody-well done with your rant then I will happily tell you what it is. This box was made by Lorenzo, Il Magnifico, Medici. You see here, in the top right hand corner, this is the crest of the Medici family. Lorenzo had two of these boxes made. One for Niccoló Machiavelli and the other for Dante Alighieri, we are told they were made because of the men's contributions to Florentine society. Inside it contains the original manuscript of one piece of these fellows' work. Machiavelli's contains his original hand-written copy of The Prince. Dante's… well I don't really know what Dante's would contain. I could guess though."

"Why do you know what's in Machiavelli's but not Dante's?" Hollie gently tilted her head to the right and looked over to the second highest level of books. In between a book on British Law and Boris Johnson's book _Friends, Voters, Countrymen,_ lay a small wooden box with elaborate Italian style patterns etched into its surface. Starling apprehensively stood from her chair and stood on her toes so that she could bring the box down. She brought it back to the desk and cautiously sat back down. Gladwin took the envelope from its spot on her desk and tipped it upside down, shaking out a small gold key.

"Aha." Her eyes beamed with excitement as she placed the key in the lock and, like a small child on Christmas day, made a large spectacle of opening it. Starling held her breath as Gladwin took out the old parchment and pressing her glasses further up her nose. "Hmmm, that's very interesting."

"What is?"

"The work inside is La Vita Nuova. It's one of his best pieces, in my opinion; I much prefer it to the Inferno." Gladwin paused. "So, there you have it. Can I ask _you_ a question, Starling? Maybe a little quid pro quo?" Starling audibly swallowed and nodded silently. "Have you any idea why Doctor Lecter would sign this letter just _'Hannibal Lecter'_? I mean usually he is fixated on his title, which is slightly egotistical if you ask me. Wouldn't he usually sign it Hannibal Lecter M.D or Doctor Hannibal Lecter?"

"Well….well I never really gave it much thought. Erm now that you mention it I don't think it's that strange at all, I mean…" She was cut off.

"You don't think it's strange because you believe he has feelings for you or because you're already intimate?"

"What the fuck are you implying, Gladwin?"

"I'm simply making my thoughts known, Detective. There is no need to get angry… unless you're hiding something, hmm? Maybe a little secret hiding in the attic or your bed?" Hollie tilted her head and remained impassive as she saw Starling's face go red with anger. Clarice stood and snatched the box, letter and manuscript out of Gladwin's hand before walking out the office, violently slamming the front door and leaving Gladwin alone in her apartment.

**HL HL HL HL HL**

The shadowed figure that had been tailing Starling for the past few days finally came out of the shadows and into the snow-covered street, his boots crunching on top of the delicate snow. He smiled as he saw Clarice enter her car, almost ripping the door off of its hinges as she did so. _She looks even more beautiful when she's angry._ He inwardly sighed, a contented sigh. How he longed to be with her. If all went to plan and all the actors on his stage played their parts flawlessly his plan would work and she would be his. His smile grew as he saw her pull a smaller piece of paper out of the inside pocket in her coat. _So, you didn't give her the post script. Hmm, this is interesting._ Lecter's mind carefully formulated his next step and he pulled out his cell phone, dialling the only number on his phone.

"Pulkininkas, laikas pradėti antro žingsnio." The voice on the other end of the phone held a lovely Lithuanian accent with hints of German and English.

"Žinoma, daktaras." He closed the phone and walked back towards Gladwin's apartment block, cheerfully whistling Goldberg Variations as he walked through the streets of New York; seen but unseen by all.

**Hope you liked this chapter guys, please remember to review and just an A/N on the last two lines... I don't speak Lithuanian, contrary to the belief of most of my friends, but if anybody does and they see a mistake in this please PM me**. **:D And by the way... Reviews power my laptop, please review. I'll buy you a cookie. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, sorry this is going to be short but I'm off to Germany tomorrow morning :D and I really wanted to publish this before I went away. Again I would like to thank everyone for their support and reviews, they really do help and I'll see you in a week :)**

The doctor quickly walked out of the snow filled streets and into the apartment block. He walked over to apartment A and quickly unlocked the door. He could feel the little drops of snow that had only minutes ago speckled his perfectly black hair white begin to melt and he ran his hand through the smooth hair. He entered the apartment. It was wide, opened spaced with windows lining an entire wall. The windows were concealed by crimson red drapes with small intricate gold patterns. The walls were a light cream, the floor a dark wood. The contrasts worked exceedingly well. Lecter's head shot up as his ever sensitive nostrils picked up the scent of an intruder and his eyes flashed. He walked silently with feline grace following the intruder's scent. _In the kitchen. _He walked through the living room, through the archway into the kitchen. He walked in, seeing perfectly in the pitch black room, and walked towards the open fridge and closed the door. _Hmm, strange…_

…Suddenly he was grabbed from behind, a knee going directly into the back of his thigh and he had to put a great amount of energy into stopping himself from collapsing and, much to his surprise, his assailant supported his weight, he used this to his advantage and quickly used his own weight to overpower his attacker and pin them against the fridge. They were both breathing heavily, not from the exercise but from the contact of their bodies.

"To be honest with you, Hannibal, I'm quite disappointed with you."

His eyes roamed over his attacker's body; perfect womanly curves, maliciously cut fingernails, a scar running down the right hand and those cold grey-blue eyes, they were like a wolf's eyes. His breath caught, he didn't expect her to break in _and_ assault him. "You used to have quicker reactions but things change, eh?" His eyes narrowed and he stepped away from her body allowing her room to move.

"I never expected you here, my dear."

His eyes were fixated on her scar. She walked up to him and placed the hand to his cheek, turning it ever so slightly so that the scar touched his skin.

"You used to remember the perfume. Anyway, Hannibal" she walked away from him into the living room, she sat on the Italian style sofa, picking up the copy of the inferno that lay on the coffee table and turned it over nonchalantly in her hands. "Let's get down to business, shall we. You phoned me for a reason, why?"

He sat on the matching armchair and lent forward. "Forever the business woman." He sighed. "Okay, I need you to help me regarding a very _delicate _matter. Concerning…"

"Clarice Starling."

His eyes narrowed. He had never, in all the years he had known her, been able to fully figure her out. She was a mystery to him, almost more than Clarice. He slowly nodded.

"I need you to get her away from work." She went to speak but Hannibal held up his hand for her to let him finish. "I know about your case, it can wait… your killer was only out to get the bishop anyway. Do you remember the house you brought for me? Good, take her there, then events will take their own course."

She nodded and looked over his body. He was very fit for his age and his hair was still as black as the day they had first met. Not a grey hair in sight. This made her smile.

"So, Hollie. How is Hans?"

The smile dissipated from her face and her jaw tightened, her upper lip quivering just slightly. She took a shaky breath, her eyes distant and glazed.

"He…he is dead." Her hands went to cover her face and Hannibal was shocked. "You remember about a year and a half ago, you phoned me saying you needed urgent medical assistance and I flew all the way over from Germany, in a military jet, to help save your hand and get you out the country? Well, that night the…the Russian mafia, they found out we were German Officers and they didn't like that, for months they had tried to get us to give them protection money but we refused…they continued to threaten us. Then…. Then that night five men came into our home in Berlin and killed Hans and all the while I was stitching your hand back on." She paused for breath, Hannibal could see this hurt her and he moved to the sofa, sitting down next to her. "He managed to kill two of them, seriously injure another but the others had wounded him and… when I came home." She felt hot tears run down her face; burning her skin and she cursed herself for showing weakness, especially when talking about HIM to HIM! It all confused her, he took her hand in his own her eyes met the scar on his own hand. "I can still see him in my dreams Hannibal, he's still there; his caramel blonde hair falling down over his face, his deep blue eyes still wide open…. I still see him hanging against the wall, his skin was pallid… the blood still seeping from the wounds in his body and… and it came from his eyes, almost as if he were crying an apology." She was sobbing now, still not looking up at him though.

"My condolences, Hollie. I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Her head snapped up, a fire burning in her eyes. "Why should you know? Hmmm? I patched you up, stopped you from being found from the authorities and then you left without even a thank you note. Just…just tell me this, how did you lose your hand?"

**HL HL HL HL HL HL**

**Okie-dokey, sorry for where I left it but you'll just have to wait. As my mother is forever telling me, "Patience is a virtue not a sin."... Anyways, I will see you in a week... if we don't get lost, haha. See you soon guys and, erm... keep reviewing.  
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	6. Chapter 5, part 2

**I'm back from Deutschland, guys! Hi, it's great to be back, I had a great time and thought up some new ideas for this story and yes we did get lost but I came back in one piece. Sorry the chapter before was so short but I split it into two, just to be mean... Mwaha ha ha! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter.  
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"…_You left without even a thank you note. Just…just tell me this, how did you lose your hand?" _

Lecter hesitated for a moment and carefully weighed his options. _If I don't tell her the truth I break my word to her and my own rules and if I do tell her the truth she will end up hating her… hating me…Why are things so difficult with these two specific women? _ He inwardly sighed in frustration. However on the outside he remained perfectly stoical. _I had better make this quick, if I prolong it she will get agitated and very angry and I can only think of one outcome…_

"Hannibal?"

He snapped back from his thoughts and looked directly into her eyes. Taking her hand he began to speak.

"Hollie, the night I lost my hand I only told you it was an accident and it was. To cut a long story short, I held a small dinner party for a friend and she didn't really appreciate it, an overzealous sense of duty and iron set morals got in the way. We fought and I had trapped her against the fridge. However…she…she distracted me for a moment and managed to cuff me." _Tell me, Clarice, would you ever say to me stop, if you loved me you'd stop? Her breath had stopped for a nanosecond before she went back to being stone cold and abruptly answered, not in a thousand years._ He could still feel the warmth of her lips under his, not moving but wanting to. He pulled away from the memory, it wasn't appropriate right now. "I asked her several times for the key but she refused and I was forced to cut off my own hand to free myself before the authorities arrived."

"Wait, Hannibal. This 'she'" Gladwin made little air apostrophes. "Has a name doesn't she?"

He solemnly nodded, knowing she would get to the bottom of this.

"It's Starling, isn't it?"

He nodded again and shifted slightly, still holding her hand as he waited for the oncoming storm. Many who had been either in the war or who are military men know her by many names at first it wassainted physician, then it rapidly changed with the intensity of the war. Now many have forgotten sainted physician, now they remember Bringer of Darkness or Hölle Rache. To his great surprise there was no shouting, no pulling out a gun, no storming out the room or even an angry phone call. She had simply sighed, a lone tear ran down her cheek and she pulled her hand away from his.

"Hannibal, I will still do what you asked of me. Even though logically it makes no sense; the woman you love causes the death of my husband… I know she couldn't know what was to take place that night; none of us could, however, had she actually given up her insane morals we might have never of had to be in this situation Hannibal…I shouldn't help you in your quest for love with her but…" She took a shaky breath. "But… I believe Hans would want me to help you. He always liked you."

She smiled her first genuine smile in a long time and wiped the tears away. He smiled back at her. She never ceased to amaze.

"Hollie, do you remember when we went on that skiing holiday just before my incarceration? Remember when you beat both Hans and myself and then in the course of your winning ended up breaking Hans' leg?" Hollie laughed, it was a true laugh. It held no scepticism, no double edge, nothing except joy at the memory.

"Yes, I do remember. I also remember _you _saying he needed to sit by the fire and doze while you took care of me. You were such a cheeky git back then, H. These days you seem to have grown out of it."

"Actually, if I recall I actually said…."

They continued talking like this for almost two hours before Gladwin looked at her watch, stood up and said, "Hannibal, although it pains me to do this I really must go. I have work to do if I'm going to get Detective Starling to Berlin. When do you want me there?"

"A week at the latest." He stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I have all the confidence in you to do this right. I wouldn't have trusted anyone else. Thank you."

"Hannibal, if I am brutally honest with you. I'm only doing this for you, not for her. I don't believe I can forgive her. Hans had been there when you were not; he gave me the love, care and friendship I had lost when you left." Her breath caught. "I…I have to go. Goodbye, Hannibal. I'll see you soon."

She brushed passed him, giving him a small peck on the cheek as she left the apartment. He could only just hear the door close. When he heard her motorcycle start he relaxed and took a deep breath. He still had things to do today and still needed to buy things for his little get together. The wheels were in motion and he had surfaced things that even he, himself, would rather have never of known. For now he lies down on the sofa and opens the doors to his memories, allowing them to flood his being and relax his soul.

**HLHLHLHLHL**

**Okay, that's it for this chapter. If anybody has any ideas for this story PM me, I happily take suggestions and what-not. By the way, please remember to review, it makes me happy. Also, I have a little challenge: If anybody can find the Doc' Who reference in this chapter I'll buy you a triple choco chip cookie and some real German Haribo... :) That's my challenge; let's see who can do it. Remember be responsible, read and review.**


	7. Chapter 6

**THE WINNER IS: LOVING HANNIBAL! I would give you the haribo but my drama teacher, drama class and I sort of ate it all :/ Sorry LH but you get the joy of winning. Anyways this is a new chapter :D Thanks to Taylor for giving me help with this one...got a tad stuck :)**

**Disclaimers: I don't own anything :'( Never have... I might do someday though!**

_The masses filtered through, I don't pay attention; I'm not interested in them, I'm interested in him. The gentleman over there, sitting on the bench under the lime tree reading __Im Westen nichts Neues by Erich Maria Remarque. His wavy caramel blonde hair begins to fall into his face and is swished back with a flick of his head. I catch a glimpse of his eyes as he looks up at the morning sun, they are a beautiful shade of palatinate blue. _

_He looks towards me and smiles, his teeth are perfectly white. He marks his place in the book and nonchalantly walks over to me. I find myself self-consciously smoothing down my dress and sipping my coffee even faster. _

"_May I join you, miss?" _

_His voice is gentle and very cultured. I nod stiffly, unable to look up. __**For god sakes, woman, you've been watching him for about an hour. Get yourself together! **__He chuckles deeply. _

"_How is your day going so far?" _

"_Erm…It's okay thanks. How…how about yours?" _

_I dare to look over to him. His eyes are gleaming as he answers. _

"_My day's going exceedingly well, thank you. Except there's one thing that has been bothering me for most of the day now…" _

_I perk my head up, intrigued at his dilemma. "What's wrong?"_

"_Well I've seen this beautiful blonde haired woman around with the most amazing smile and I just don't know if she's noticed me. She also seems to have this strange habit of ordering coffee and then staring at random people for hours on end."_

_I blush and give a sheepish smile at him. He smiles back and holds out his hand. _

"_Hi, I'm Hans, Hans Reinhardt. It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs…"_

"_Miss Hollie Gladwin."_

_His smile became even brighter as he said, "I thought a woman as beautiful as yourself would have been married by now. Miss Gladwin, if you are not doing anything today, would you mind spending the day with me?"_

_I smile back at him. _

"_Of course, Colonel Reinhardt, I would love to spend the day in your company." He laughs loudly again and pays for my drink before leading me away from the café into the bustling streets of Berlin. _

**HLHLHLHLHLHLHL**_  
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_I hold onto his arm as we make our way out of the Galeria Kaufhof and into the street. We both have a few purchases under our arms and I laugh as he makes a funny comment about…well I'm not even listening to what it's about, I'm laughing because I'm becoming giddy just being near him. I'm finally having fun for the first time in a year… for the first time since Hannibal left. He is slightly taller than me and as he smiles he looks down into my eyes. He has a beautiful smile. I hope I continue to see it until the day I die. He looks at his watch. _

"_Hollie, I'm sorry but I must take my leave. I have work to finish. Are you a fan of the Berlin philharmonic? Good, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind or… or would like to join me this evening?" _

_Hollie looked at him and he held his breath in anticipation. _

"_I would love to."_

"_Great! I'll…erm… I'll pick you up at 7?" _

_She nodded and he flashed a 3000 kilowatt smile as he called her a cab, bid her farewell and took off with an obvious spring in his step. _

**HLHLHLHLHLHLHL**_  
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Gladwin slammed back to reality when her office door was savagely closed and she fell backwards off her chair into the grey wall. Cursing, she looked up and saw Starling standing there, hand still on the doorknob, looking calm everywhere except her eyes; they blazed with unshed anger and hidden secrets.

**HLHLHLHLHLHLHL**

_His eyes set fire as he saw the well-dressed couple enter the concert hall. The man was about 31 with fiery blue eyes and caramel blonde hair and wore a field grey military uniform with the insignias of the intelligence service and the rank of a colonel. His eyes cared not for the man, however, more for the woman at his side. She was dressed in a peppermint blue, sleeveless corset dress that stopped just above the knee and made her feminine curves so defined that even the most beautiful of woman would be jealous. His anger burnt. _

_I can feel his eyes moving over my body, coveting me. It burns me; I want to look at him but… but…__**Oh fuck it, just look**__… I slowly, cautiously turn my head towards him. Our eyes meet and I snap my head away, Hans is still talking to me. _

"_Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost, Hollie." _

"_Erm… yeah, well not really, I actually feel a little ill. Can…can we go home?" His face contorts, his brow furrows and his expression becomes seriously worried. _

"_Okay but you have to tell me what's up?" I bite my lip and jump when I feel a hand brush my shoulder. _

"_Good evening, Hollie. I was hoping to see you here." His smile is like a Cheshire cat holding a double edged sword. _

**HLHLHLHLHLHLHL**_  
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"I was told you had a breakthrough in this case." Gladwin quickly snapped back to reality. _Why can so many things let a memory run wild? From Starling's eyes to a single word or smell. It's annoying and amazing. _She picked up her chair and sat down at the generic metal desk that seemed to be seen in all law enforcement offices around the world.

"Er… yeah. I looked over the case file and thought about it. This really just looks like a single premeditated crime, I don't think he'll strike again."

"What makes you say that?" Her voice has that I'm-really-mad-at-you-but-I-have-to-be-professional tone and she runs her hand through her auburn hair.

"Look, Starling… It's just gut instinct and the fact that the organ player didn't seem that bothered that the Bishop had died. Did you notice that? No? Maybe it's just me but looking at his statement, _'I got no idea what happened but it's sorta symbolic, ain't it…S'all most beautiful how his blood drops onto out lords hands 'n' the way he's been strung up there.' _That doesn't really seem very concerned to me. If anything it sounds like he's admiring the work, I don't have to have a psych degree to work out that most people do not admire murders."

Starling sighs and rubs her eyes. _I can trust her profession judgement… it's just the personal I can't. I need to remain professional about this. _

"You got any other evidence?" Gladwin filtered through the papers in front of her until she found what she was looking for.

"When Sharpe and Maria were analysing his clothing they found a couple of brown hairs and this…" Gladwin pulled out a photocopy of a note.

"_The safest road to Hell is the gradual one—the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts. You gradually stopped our music... you gradually went to hell." _Starling read it out loud, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It's a quote from C.S. Lewis… well everything up to signposts. After that it's the killer himself writing. I would take a handwriting sample and DNA from the organ player before he runs out of the state."

"Gladwin, you don't even know he wrote this."

"Actually I had a word with a friend of mine in the F.B.I and he said they had been investigating the Bishop on some sexual abuse claims… it was the organ player who made the claims. In certain parts of the world, detective, 'making music' could be interpreted in a sexual way."

"Why would he make the claims then kill him? It makes no sense."

"I don't know and to be honest with you…" Gladwin was interrupted by the beep of her office phone.

"Hollie, there's some chief of police on line 3 for you, says his last name's Pagel."

"Okay, thanks Paul."

"And for the last time I'm not your god-damned P.A. I've got a job to do, you know."

Gladwin sighed, picked up the handset and switched to line 3.

"Hallo, Pagel. Ya, ich bin gut…danke. Ach…was willst du? Oh…okay. Wie viele so weit? Nein, nicht in tausend Jahren…Was! Das ist…. Okay…erm…ein moment, bitte." She held the phone to her chest and looked at Starling.

"I need to take some leave."

"Why?"

"I have more important things to do. "

"Things in Germany?"

"Yes."

"What kind of things?"

"There's been a chain of murders. They need me to investigate, they…they, er… want you to come with me."

"Me! Why?"

"I don't know, look this phone call costs a lot of money. Yes or no, Clarice? Okay."

Gladwin placed the handset back in the cradle and pushed speakerphone.

"Pagel, she's agreed." They could hear the man on the other end of the line clap his hands.

"Good, I've already booked flight tickets under your name for tomorrow. I'll see you in a couple of days and Hollie… take your uniform. It's a rule now that if you're a member or former member of the military you have to wear it when in a military or law enforcement building. I'll see you soon."

A few seconds later the phone was put down and Starling lent against the wall, sighing deeply.

"I'll go make sure Sharpe, Newman and Potter are up to date and see you tomorrow morning at…."

"I'll pick you up at 5:30, Starling. The flight leaves at 7:00. Don't be late." Gladwin made a speedy exit out of the building, putting her Bluetooth headset on she set it to dial the nameless number on her phone and got on her bike. Just as she pulled out the parking lot into the main street the other end of the line came to life.

"Hello."

"It's complete. Our flight leaves at 7am tomorrow."

"Thank you, Hollie. What are you doing right now?"

"I am driving to a shooting range in the Flatiron district. I need to practise, please don't phone me for a while… I need to clear my head. Goodbye, H."

**HLHLHLHLHLHL**

**Okay, that's it for this chapter. I'm still in the mood for suggestions and help me power my brain by reviewing. **


	8. Chapter 7

**Thanks to Loving Hannibal for helping me with this chapter, it really helped. Also thanks to everyone who's been reviewing - You know who you are. **

The next morning Starling awoke to the buzzing of her phone. _For god sakes, who phones at 5:15 in the morning….5:15! Shit! _She launched herself from the bed and flipped her mobile open and pressed the speaker button.

"Hello?" Starling's voice was still heavy with sleep she as she fumbled, aimlessly grasping under the bed for her suitcase.

"Starling! Are you ready yet?"

"Er… yep, just making sure I've got everything."

Starling heaved the cheap black suitcase from under her bed, ripping off the tags that remained from her trip to New Orleans with Ardelia. Frantically she began throwing heaps of clothes into it.

Gladwin realized that Clarice was not prepared and was irritated by the poorly veiled attempt to stall her. She immediately called her on it, "You're a crap liar, Starling. You better be ready by the time I get there."

Realization dawned and Starling paused her packing, "Wait, are you driving while on your phone?"

"Yeah and your point is?"

"One, it's against the law and…two, you could get yourself killed."

"I'm not getting your point and stop getting distracted it's now twenty past, I'll be there in exactly ten minutes so be ready. See you then."

With that Gladwin hung up the phone and Starling stood dumbly in the centre of her bedroom, clad in boxer shorts and a large UVA football shirt.

_Shit! Shower! _She ran into the bathroom, hopped in the shower and scrubbed herself quickly, simultaneously brushing her teeth to save time. She hopped out and wrapped herself in a towel quickly gathering her toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner and bundling them in her arms she returned to the bedroom and tossed them haphazardly in her suitcase. Her eyes quickly shot to the digital clock on her bedside table.

_5:26, I've got six minutes. _Rushing to her already opened wardrobe Clarice pulled out a pair of jeans, fresh underwear and a white tee-shirt. It took her about three minutes to dress herself and drag her suitcase into the hallway.

The precise moment Starling's clock struck half past, as if it were a gong signalling the half hour, Gladwin's loud knocking could be heard striking the front door. She opened the door to see Gladwin dressed in a 1940's style black and white polkadot dress with matching baby doll pumps. Behind her Starling saw a black Mercedes E class convertible and couldn't keep her eyes off it.

"Hey, Starling."

Her gaze shot from the Mercedes and back to Hollie.

"Hi, Gladwin… I thought you drove a motorcycle."

Gladwin smiled, pushing past Starling, picked the heavy suitcase up with ease and walked with purpose toward her car. She spoke with the same authority with which she moved, "Do you have everything? Good, come on then. You know, Starling, just because I drive a motorcycle to work doesn't mean I don't own a car. How else do you think I get all my crap to the airport?"

Hollie laughed as she tossed Starling's suitcase into the trunk dismissing it with the same ease she dismissed Clarice.

Clarice pulled on her denim jacket and reached for her handbag. There was flash of remembrance as she realized she was missing something. Embarrassed she looked up, "Shit. Gladwin, I'll only be a second… I need my phone."

Hollie nodded and slid into the passenger's seat. When Clarice returned she was bemused by this and looked at Gladwin, tilting her head slightly.

The gesture was not lost on Gladwin.

_You've picked up some of his lil' quirks over the years haven't you Starling. It's amazing what obsession does to you. _

"I thought you might want to drive. I saw you coveting my car, don't worry, I trust you… anyways I could always buy a new one if you wreck this one up."

Starling felt like a small child who had just been given the best Christmas present in the world. She threw herself into the luxurious leather seat, pulling it a little more forward to make it more comfortable for her to drive. She turned the engine on and savoured the noise as it came to life. She drove off, completely giddy, toward the airport.

**HLHLHLHLHL**

Two hours! It had taken two hours to get onto the plane. Twenty minutes of that time spent as Hollie argued with an incompetent check-in woman. Starling sighed and melded into the first class seating. Hollie had been placed a few seats in front of her and though she had argued at length was still not allowed to move seats – apparently it had been reserved.

"Would you like something to drink, madam?"

Starling looked up at the handsome steward with sparkling green eyes and fluffy brown hair.

"I'll have a coke, thanks."

The steward nodded, took her coke from the trolley and started to leave. "Wait, don't I still have to pay you?"

"Of course not, madam, everything is put onto your bill." Starling nodded and thanked him. The flight was set to leave in five minutes. Starling decided to catch up on her much needed sleep.

**HLHLHLHLHL**

"No. You can't move back there. You simply can't do it, I would wait… you need her to become comfortable. You don't know how hard it was for me to get them to let her help on this case…you don't…"

"Hollie, please, can you stop stating what I _don't _know and get on to what I do? I know her. I know her better than she knows herself and…"

"And yet you cannot predict everything she does. She still surprises you, H. It may be that she acts the complete opposite to how you think she'll act. Look just let her sleep, when we get to Berlin you can do whatever the fuck you want as long as it's inside the law and doesn't bother me. I have things to attend to before I even go home."

He contemplated what had been said for a few seconds before nodding in agreement and taking a sip of his wine, closing his eyes and savouring the taste.

"Hollie, I will take your advice in this instance. Now there is one more thing I need to ask you. Will you be staying in your old home?"

"The…the one I shared with Hans? Yes…yes I will. Why?"

"Well if I may be so bold, I will require you to go out on Friday for most, if not all, of the evening."

"Excuse me? You're going to kick me out of my own home, so you can try and do what exactly?"

"I need to talk to her in a private setting. Some of the things I need to discuss with her are very personal and I would prefer it to be easier for her."

"And you can't do that in a restaurant or a café?"

"How exactly would I get her there, my dear?"

"Fine...Do whatever you bloody well want, Doctor."

She stood abruptly and collected her handbag. "And I'm not your_ dear. _I haven't been that for over four years." She walked off toward the steward both spoke in hushed tones before he directed her to a new seat with more leg room and offered her another drink.

_Only five hours left, Hollie. God it's going to be a long haul…_ Gladwin's eyes started to close as she began to drift to sleep. The night before she hadn't slept at all, at first she had been at the shooting range burning off all her anger. Her training never at an end she had been fine tuning her skills, again. Then, when the firing range had closed for the night she wandered toward the inner harbour and looked out across Liberty Island waiting for the autumn sunrise to paint the sky.

**HLHLHLHLHLHL**

_There's a screaming somewhere in the distance. They've managed to capture a small platoon of the 13__th__ Mechanized Infantry division. _

"_Shit. Heinrich, we need to keep moving. If those Russians get to us this city's done for." _

_Heinrich shuffles over to me and looks at the screwed up map in front of me. I rub my dirt covered hand over my eyes and sigh. _

"_Oberstleutnant Gladwin, what if we move the 10__th__ Panzer division towards the north east to draw fire and…." _

"_Shells! Get to cover; they're using the fuckin' artillery!" _

_Before I can get to cover they get a direct hit on our position and the cracks in the old bungalow are becoming more profound. I see Heinrich running past me, shouting…I can't hear him; I'm standing there deafened, rooted to the spot. He tries to grab my arm and drag me out but I still don't move. He goes to try and grab me again but another shell hits and the ceiling crumbles. My training makes me fall to the floor and I come back to my senses, following what I can see of Heinrich towards the door, he manages to get out and I begin to see the light of day. _

_Another shell hits our position and the entire ceiling collapses onto my legs. I scream in pain and my vision begins to blur. _

"_Ach! Heinrich! Anybody, help! Fucking hell… Medic!" I don't cry, I'm in so much pain I start to laugh. I can feel the blood seeping through the trouser legs. __**Will I keep my legs? Of fuck…Where is that hell damned medic? **__"Medic!" I begin to lose consciousness and I see blackened shapes in the distance…It's the Russians. That's why the medic hasn't come. I try and jimmy my rifle out from under the rubble, __**Yes! Ahhhh…**__I bite my lip to stop the screams; the gun was holding some of the weight. I use the last of my strength to make it look like I fought my way out before dying. I begin to feel my consciousness fading and then I see nothing._

**HLHLHLHLHL**_  
><em>

Gladwin awoke screaming, a thin layer of sweat covered her face and she was frantically looking at her surroundings. The steward - who is now looking very concerned – walks over to her, kneeling down to stay at eye level. Hannibal watches with interest as the two speak in hushed tones once again. He can see the irritation in Hollie's eyes. Not at the steward but at herself. He smiles as the steward who is now being overly concerned is shooed away by Hollie. He contemplates joining her but ultimately decides against it. She's obviously not in the best of moods at the moment. He simply sits back, rests his eyes and begins to stroll through the vast beauty that he has created within himself.

**HLHLHLHLHL**

Gladwin impatiently tapped her foot on the old stone flooring. She hated waiting and now was no exception. She held her passport various other identities in one hand and a bottle of sparkling water in the other. When she was finally called up by the officer at the immigration desk she gave a sigh of relief that her waiting was over.

"Guten Morgen, Oberfeldwebel."

The officer didn't even look up as he grunted and took her passport. As he scanned it through and looked at the name that appeared on his screen his eyebrows shot up and he did a double take from her to the screen and back again. She smiled arrogantly.

"Like I said, Guten Morgen, Oberfeldwebel." His posture automatically straightens and he gives a small salute.

"Guten Morgen, Frau Oberst. Erm… Everything is in order, have a nice day."

Hollie smiles and nods as she takes back her passport and walks over to Clarice who is standing with the luggage.

"Starling, I believe there's a car waiting for us. Wait here, I'm going to try and find the driver."

Gladwin walked off, leaving Starling standing awkwardly in the centre of the Berlin Schönefeld Airport. She sighed, moved Hollie's suitcase slightly and sat on top of it. _God…what does she have in here? Feels like a whole god-damned brass band. _She closed her eyes for a minute, immersing herself in the sounds and atmosphere of the place. She had finally begun to relax she felt an all too familiar shiver up her spine. _No...he wouldn't be here, not now. It's just your imagination, girl._

"Alrighty then, Starling, the car's out front. Let's go."

Starling nodded lugging her suitcase behind her after Gladwin had snatched her own back carrying the vintage leather suitcase with ease. When they stepped outside Starling was taken aback by the Berlin skyline, it was a mixture of ugly concrete buildings, high, sleek skyscrapers and beautiful post-war architecture that had only just finished being restored. Berlin was a city of extremes and contradictions, in a way it reminded her of Gladwin.

**HLHLHLHLHL**

Starling sat awkwardly in the living room of Hollie's home. It was pleasant enough but Starling didn't feel like she should be allowed here. Gladwin re-entered the room. She held a set of car keys.

"Starling, I need to go out for a while. Make yourself at home…I just ask one thing of you…I need you not to enter the attic. It's my own privet room up there and I would prefer it to be left untouched. Thanks, I'll be home later. There's food in the fridge if you get hungry and there's a little alcohol in the cellar. I'll see you later."

She left as quickly as she could, Starling thought she didn't hear the door lock but put it down to her imagination and quickly went down to the cellar to get a drink.

She walked down the cold stone steps into the dark cellar. She fumbled around for a light switch and when she finally managed to find one she gasped at the sight before her. Gladwin's cellar was full to the brim with fine wines, cognacs, liquors and every other known type of alcohol. It took her at least ten minutes to find some whisky but she was disappointed not to find any Jack Daniels, she only found a bottle of Johnnie Walker, Blue Label whisky and decided to live with that instead. She took the bottle out of its rack and walked up stairs into the kitchen to grab a glass.

"Good morning, Clarice."

**Sorry guys but what's to come deserves a chapter of its own! :) **


	9. Chapter 8

**Hey, I want to thank Taylor and Loving Hannibal for the help on writing this chapter and erm... well for once I have barely anything to say... Oh, yeah... my friend from Cambridge is doing some art for this FF for me, the first piece has just been posted, it's of our first description of Hans in chapter six. I'm just waiting on the other piece, it's all on DeviantArt if anybody wants to look, just search 'for Gladwags' and it's the first one :D **

**6 Days till my Birthday! (If we don't count the day) :) _Anyways... _on with the story :D _  
><em>**

_"Good morning, Clarice." _

She froze, the bottle beginning to slip out of her now sweaty hands. There he stood, directly in front of her, leaning against the fridge in an all too domestic fashion. Her mouth began to try and form words but was unable to. He chuckled.

"Cat got your tongue, Clarice? If I were you I wouldn't drop that bottle. Oberst Gladwin won't be very happy with you."

Starling looked at the bottle that was slowly slipping towards the floor and sheepishly placed it on the side.

"Y...you know Hollie?"

"A mutual acquaintance. Did you get my present?"

"Yes, I did, thank you. It still puzzles me though. Why Dante?"

A smile graces his face as she questions the nature of his gift, _she shouldn't have to. She already knows the answer. _

"You already know the answer, little Starling. Why don't you say it out loud, hmm?"

"Why don't you?"

_Hmmm, are you challenging me, Clarice? _

"Will you take a walk with me, Clarice?" He straightened and walked over to her, closing the distance within seconds. He held his hand out and she accepted, much to the amazement of both. He opened the French windowed doors that led into the garden and allowed her to exit first.

The garden was beautiful in the midday winter sunlight. Snow covered most of the grass and sparkled when little sprinkles of light hit it. The small pond at the bottom of the garden has iced over and the small Japanese fish swim merrily under their ice cage. There's a little path leading through the grass that has iced over. It leads to a small garden shed that almost looks like a miniature version of Santa's grotto in this picturesque wintery setting. _I wonder how beautiful this looks in the summer._

"It's even more beautiful in the summer, my dear. The way the light shimmers off the pond, directing itself at every flower here. It's almost like being a child again; everything is bright, innocent and wonderful."

Hannibal walks over to the climbing Pope John Paul II roses that adorn the west wall of the house that are lightly dusted with snow, flicks his harpy into his hand and cuts one off, barely even disturbing the peace. He walks back over to Clarice, brushing the snow off the wooden bench and laying his jacket down for her to sit on. She tries to object but is silenced.

"Please, sit, my dear. I insist."

She complied and sat down gingerly on his suit jacket. He followed suit, sitting down next to her. He held the rose in his hands, intertwining the stem through his fingers and sighed.

"Oh, Clarice, what are we going to do? Hmm? If we continue to challenge each other we will get nothing done. So, why don't we go back to quid pro quo? Good, I hope you don't think it rude of me but I have already asked my question… I still need an answer. Why do you think I chose La Vita Nuova to give you?"

Starling sighed and pondered for a minute. Ultimately coming to the conclusion she always came to but could never except. _Just say it girl! You could finally have a chance at happiness, don't let your mind win this; listen to your heart for once…_

"I….Because you…you _like _me?"

"Was that a question, Clarice? No. It's not because I _like _you, Clarice. It's because I love you - that much should be clear by now."

She was shocked, she knew they had always had something, but had always felt unrequited or that he would never openly say it to her; he enjoyed the games too much. Now he sighed and looked at his watch.

"I am so sorry, my dear. However I must take my leave." He stood and took her hand, gently slipping the rose onto her wrist, tying up the ends almost turning it into a simplistic corsage. He then raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles.

"Would you like to meet me for dinner tonight?

Starling bit her lip for a moment, slowly chewing over the things that have been said. _Come on Girl, it couldn't hurt just to see him for the evening, besides he just confessed his love for you_…. _But he's a…..DON'T EVEN THINK THAT GIRL! DON'T EVEN GO THERE! _

"Erm…okay, sure." She put on a little half smile.

"Thank you, Clarice. Would you be kind enough to wear a dress, my dear? Good, thank you. I'll pick you up at half seven, if that's acceptable? Good. Until tonight then." With that he took his leave swiftly, picking up his suit jacket and walking gracefully out the garden, through the house and into his sleek black jaguar.

Starling stood in the garden for a moment, considering the new feeling bubbling inside of her. She hasn't felt like this in years… it feels like happiness.

**HLHLHLHL**

She swept her hair back and looked herself over. _Seriously, woman… you're actually primping for a date, and a date with Hannibal Lecter of all people! _She sighed and looked at the dress Gladwin had lent her before disappearing suddenly… again. It was a peppermint blue, sleeveless corset dress that stopped just above the knee. It was made of silk and fit Starling perfectly, defining her curves in all the right places. She also wore matching heels. It was 7:20 by the wall clock and she had run out of things to do. She had even gone to the lengths of spending twenty minutes putting on make-up just to stop her feeling what she was starting to feel right now; anxiety. _Why do I feel nervous about how I look for Hannibal Lecter? Why do I even feel nervous about going on a date with him? I should feel repulsed but…but I don't…I feel…I feel great… excited even. Good god, girl….Are you listening to yourself. _Starling shook the thoughts away, deciding to finally try that whiskey she had gotten out earlier.

She poured the amber hued liquid into a crystal whiskey glass. The small of alcohol was potent and Clarice vaguely wondered if she should drink it. She didn't have to debate this for the doorbell rang precisely on cue, signally his arrival.

She walked as fast as she could to the door, grabbing the small handbag, which she also borrowed from Gladwin, off the hallway table. She quickly smoothed her hair before opening the door.

His breath caught as he saw her, standing in the doorway, the dress clinging to her deeply feminine figure. That dress… _Her arm was linked with the charming military intelligence officer's. She was dressed in a peppermint blue, sleeveless corset dress that stopped just above the knee. He felt his eyes set alight and the Molotov cocktail in his heart is finally primed… it only needs a flame. _

"Good evening, Clarice. Are you ready to go?"

She smiles at him and takes his hand. He's wearing a personally tailored, light grey suit, white dress shirt and a black tie. He leads her towards the black jaguar, holding the passenger door open for her, handing her into the vehicle. He walked to the other side after closing her door, swiftly getting into the driver's side and started the car.

**HLHLHLHLHLHL**

**Mwaha ha ha! ... Sorry people but I'm going to be cruel and make you wait! By the way, just as a lil' poll, would you rather have dinner at Hannibal's or a restaurant?**

**I don't think you need to be reminded about reviewing...  
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	10. Chapter 9

**Okay, sorry this chapter took so long I've had a pile of exams and mock exams and A level open evenings to attend to… :'( I have my Higher Tier, Mathematics Calculator Paper on Monday… I hope I don't do as badly as the non-calculator. By the way, here's a small challenge for y'all: Can anybody figure out why I chose the name I did for Lecter? Hint: Meaning. This was also Co-written by Taylor & I would like to thank Major for the help with the food :D **

Die weiße Rose, one of Berlin's most prestigious and popular restaurants was - like any other night - packed full of rich, successful customers and the maître d' smiled as he saw the elegantly dressed couple enter, he quickly straightened his jacket and walked over to them.

"Guten Abend. Haben Sie reserviert, mein Herr?"

Clarice revelled in the warmth of the restaurant. It was elegantly decorated; cream walls, dark wood floorboards and deep purple drapes. There was a large fireplace in the centre of the room, making it all the more inviting for those couples out in the brisk, November air.

"Ja, danke, es ist unter Arzt Wächter."

The waiter looks down at the leather backed book, quickly looks back up, nods and leads the couple over to their table. Lecter guided her with one hand hovering above the small of her back, never fully initiating physical contact, and she mentally scolded herself for the fleeting thought that told her she wanted him to. The soft piano notes floated softly through the air, wisping around them and fading, like rose petals drifting to settle on the surface on a half frozen lake.

_This is wrong, isn't it? What about your job, girl? What about Gladwin? Has she got any idea what's happening? Would she be suspicious?_ These thoughts and more ran through her mind so fast that she barely had the time to process each one, let alone answer it.

He pulled out her chair and swept his hand through the air, motioning for her to sit. She did and only then did he join her at the table. Starling suddenly felt awkward. In all her life she had never imagined coming to a place like this, especially with a man like _him._ _Wait…. Did I actually just think that? _Starling subconsciously fiddled with the clasp of her watch, her thoughts becoming more outrageous by the second. Like always, Hannibal picked up on her unease and took her hand in his own.

"Clarice, there is no need for you to feel uncomfortable. I just want you to relax. You feel like you don't belong in these circles of society, Hmm? Yes, but the fact remains that you _do _belong here. Now please, my dear… relax. Besides I see you dressed up, Clarice and might I add that the dress is quite lovely. Peppermint blue becomes you, my dear."

She gave him a small smile and he let go of her hand and she instantly cursed herself for missing his warmth.

"Good evening, can I get you anything to drink?" The waiter was back.

Lecter nodded.

"Clarice, is wine acceptable? Good, I trust you'll drink it this time."

Flashes of the night at the lake house shot through her mind as the doctor winked at her and ordered the wine from the waiter. The waiter placed a menu in front of Starling, then Lecter before leaving the couple once more. She took a quick scan of the menu, not understanding a single word…_Oh why did I pick French instead of German? _Starling coughed quietly, awkwardly. She hoped he would realize her problem.

"Something wrong, Clarice?" He raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Erm…yeah. I, er… I can't read German."

She felt embarrassed to say it. _Come on girl, get on with the rest of it… he's waiting. _She looked down at her cutlery and started to tinker with the little silver desert spoon before mumbling,

"I wouldn't have any idea what to order even if I could read it…"

It was more to herself than anyone else but Hannibal's acute hearing still picked it up. He smiled gently for a second before leaning over and coaxing her head to look him in the eyes.

"Clarice, would you like me to order for you?"

She looked at him blankly for a few seconds before nodding.

"And I promise you the meal will be lamb free."

He winked at her and she laughed a little. The maître d' came back over a few moments later, pouring the doctor some wine to try first. Lecter took a deep breath of the wine's bouquet before taking a sip and allowing the cool liquid to swirl around in his mouth and enlighten his senses. He nodded his approval and the waiter first poured Clarice half a glass before pouring the doctor's. The doctor proceeded to order in flawless German.

"Abend. Wir möchte Zwei Pastete von Fischfilets in der Kräuter-Brotkruste zu begin. Zwei Brustfilet von der Wildente im Champignonkopf auf Rahmwirsing und für Nachtisch…hmm… ja, die Überbackene Eisbombe mit Früchten bitte."

The maître d' nodded politely and walked away, leaving the couple to their own affairs.

"So, Doctor, what exactly did you order?"

"You never ask…"

"It spoils the surprise, yes I remember."

"Good, now, tell me Clarice, how did you feel when you saw me earlier today?"

"I felt… exhilarated. The same as every time I see you."

"Were you _afraid_?" a fierce glow flashed in his eyes as he anticipated. He had longed to hear her speak the words.

"Afraid, Doctor?" She shook her head slowly, her hair quivering in such a way that the firelight danced, shooting streaks of gold through her auburn mane. "No, not of you."

He tilted his head curiously, studying her as if she were a great sculpture, slowly being unveiled. "If not of me, then what do you have to be afraid of, Clarice?"

_Here we go… Again with the soul searching. I don't think so, not yet. When? Oh I don't know… _

The Doctor's velvet rasp joined the southern drawl inside her head, _That Clarice, is the answer people tell not only themselves when they are looking for the easy way out. You're much better than that, don't you think?_

_Ugh! I don't… _He continued to watch her curiously. She could practically hear him clicking his tongue. _Yeah, I suppose. So, what? I'm just supposed to tell you my fears? Just like that? Why the hell not? _

"What am I afraid of, Doctor? Losing those I care for…" _Delia, Crawford, Daddy, Brigham…the F.B.I? No, not anymore._ She quickly deflected herself from these thoughts. "And spiders. I hate spiders." She smiled to herself, realising that this was the first time in her conversation with Doctor Lecter that she had actually spoken. The voices in her head approved and she hushed them as she waited for his reply.

"Who is it you care for, Claricceee? Your abusive partner, the FBI? Or have you already lost them. To the same endearing qualities you lose everything to, might I add."

"And what qualities would that be, Doctor?" she almost sneered.

He leaned across the table, as did she, and he whispered ever so softly. "Like I have said before, my dear, your courage and incorruptibility. Do you remember? Ah yes, I see you do."

Memories of the phone call in central station flooded through her mind. The boars ran amuck in her head. Mason Verger. The lake house… Paul's lake house… and the dinner party. She stopped herself there, gently shaking her head as if in a vain attempt to remove the aggressive surge of memories.

Lecter noticed but didn't comment. She wondered why. Was he still waiting for an answer?

When he was satisfied that she had composed herself, he asked again, more directly and leaving room for her to answer this time. "Who do you have left to lose, my dear?"

_What __**do**__ I have to lose? EVERYTHING! Your mental health suffers from just talking to him woman! You need time to think, contemplate. You can't go through with this…. What… what will happen if you display your soul to him? What will he do, hmm? He'll do what he's done so many times before; he'll dissect it until there's nothing left and then give you nothing in return. Get out while you still can._ Her hands shook and she played with her cutlery again before coming to her ultimate decision.

"I'm…I'm sorry, doctor but…but I have to go." She quickly stood up and started to leave.

"Clarice!"

His voice resounded behind her but she blocked it out. Her heart screamed at her to turn and return to the table, her mind screamed for her to leave. She found middle ground to try and stop the symphony of voices and opinions that were rattling about inside her; she looked back and met his eyes. His were open to her, showing his soul, beseeching her to stay just a short while longer. She reluctantly tore herself away and walked swiftly out of the restaurant. Her heart burned, her knees felt weak and her breathing became shallow…

**HLHLHLHLHLHL**

**Okie-dokey, old chaps. That's it for this chapter I'm afraid you'll have to wait ;) Remember R&R **


	11. Chapter 10

**Okie-dokey, guys. This one's a short chapter… you have been warned. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Gladwin, I'm not making any money from this story…. *sobs* … I wish I had a better job so I could buy them… :'( Damn my boss only paying me £4.95 an hour! **

Clarice felt her knees go weak and all but ran towards the nearest taxi. She slid into the cream Mercedes and fumbled, trying desperately to remember Gladwin's address. The taxi driver was looking at her expectantly and she rooted through her purse looking for the address. Giving him the small slip of paper she noticed his eyebrows rise slightly before he nodded and drove off. She relaxed momentarily when the car began to drive away from the restaurant. She rested her head against the cool glass.

_Shit, girl… do you realize what you've just done? You stood up Hannibal fucking Lecter! Don't you think he might consider that rude? What the fuck were you thinking…. You have some serious issues, girl. Never forget what he is…What is he? I don't fucking know anymore… he's Hannibal Lecter, intellectual gentleman, man of the world…. Handsome….DON'T THINK THA…..Oh shut up will you, woman!_

"Frauline?"

She jumped at the taxi driver's sudden speech, then realized that they had arrived at Gladwin's home. She nodded and took a few marks from her purse and gave them to the man. He smiled warmly and got out to help her out from the car before driving away.

She stood outside the townhouse, admiring and fearing its daunting yet quite beautiful exterior. _Even Gladwin's house is a paradox! _She started to make her way up the steps, trying to not slip on the snow and ice. _These heels really aren't helping. _She stumbled towards the front door and took out the front key she had borrowed. Unlocking the door she swiftly made her way inside. She instantly recognized the warmth of a fire, the smell of gunpowder and whisky. She followed the smell towards the living room. Her FBI training instantly kicking in as she stuck to the wall and peered around the corner into the sparsely lit room. She heard a slight sob and saw Gladwin curled in front of the fireplace with what looked like a photo album clutched in her hands. This was the most vulnerable Starling had ever seen her, she decided that is was best - considering Gladwin had a service pistol next to her - to take an intervention. There was no point letting Gladwin harm herself…_ Would she ever do that? I don't know anymore… everybody in my life is changing, did I really know any of them, truly? _

Starling cautiously entered the room, placing her bag down on the sofa as she walked towards Hollie. Crouching down she placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Hollie? What's wrong?" Starling was genuinely concerned for her and Gladwin picked up on this, abruptly stopping her sobbing and wiping away the tears that had formed in her eyes and streaked her face.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine Starling. H….how did your evening go?" _She's deflecting….let her, Starling. She's obviously been drinking and she's not used to being this emotional in front of people. Take it easy with her, girl. _

"M…my evening went….it was okay, I guess."

Gladwin choked on her next breath.

"That dress looks really nice on you, Starling. I remember when I first brought that." She gave a melancholic smile. The silence grew for a few minutes and Hollie's grip on the photo album started to waver and her eyes had become glazed…she looked like she was dying, reliving her precious moments for the final time.

"It's amazing, isn't it? You think you know a person's true nature. We never look deeper and we end up being surprised by them; forever second guessing ourselves if we ever really knew them at all."

Starling realized how much truth Gladwin's words actually held for her at this precise moment and she tilted her head slightly in awe. Gladwin rubbed her eyes and stood up.

"Clarice, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Why don't you get some rest, hmm? Goodnight."

Starling nodded and watched as Gladwin placed the album on the side table before making her way upstairs to the master bedroom. Starling took a cursory glance at the photo album, debating whether or not to invade these memories of Hollie Gladwin's life. She heard the door to the master bedroom close and the flick of a light switch. She continued to stare at it as if willing it to make her decision for her. _If I open it I am breaking her trust… But Starling it made her show an unusual amount of emotion – an unusual amount for Gladwin that is. One little look won't hurt that much will it? _She gave into temptation and turned the cover over. On the front cover was a small inscription in German that Starling couldn't fathom out. She flipped to a random page somewhere in the middle and stopped when a particular photo caught her eye. It was of a handsome man dressed in full white tie, he had caramel blonde hair and a 3000 kilowatt smile that was to die for. He embraced a woman who looked only a few years younger than himself. She wore a flowing white dress that was very similar to the one Starling wore at that moment. The woman has long, flowing blonde hair and steely blue eyes. _Wait…._She looked over the photo again, scanning every detail of the woman's face. _No….It's….it's Gladwin! Fucking hell…The woman's married. _ Starling laughed slightly at the irony of Gladwin's last statement and began to look further through the book. There were several pictures of Gladwin and her mysterious husband. One more stuck out to her, it again was a picture of Gladwin in what looked like one of the old Baltic States. However she wore a military uniform and had her arm around the shoulders of a different man, _I must be going mad… that can't be right…But he did say once that….Starling, stop…no, just stop thinking all together. It gets you into trouble. It always has. _Starling quickly slammed the book closed and a slip of paper fell out. It was in a rough, typewriter-like handwriting. It was a poem. She picked it up and took it up to her own room, she didn't know why but a wave of curiosity had come over her.

She quickly showered in her en-suit and changed into a comfy pair of pyjamas before snuggling down into the bed sheets. She began to read, slowly becoming enraptured by this poem; its subject: war and the pity of war. The poetry is in the pity. She read on until she had finished it completely.

For hours she lay in bed, the last two stanzas of the poem running amok in her head. 

_My soul's a little grief, grappling your chest,_

_To climb your throat on sobs; easily chased_

_On other sighs and wiped by fresher winds._

_Carry my crying spirit till it's weaned. _

_To do without what blood remained these wounds._

It was in the early hours of the morn that sleep overcame her. Her thoughts were disorganized and creating havoc inside of her. Thoughts of the poem. Thoughts of Gladwin and her secrets. Thoughts of him.

**Okay, sorry it was so short but I want to write the next thing in its own lil' chapter. **

**Challenge for y'all…. You'll get some homemade strudel – made with love by my Oma - if you can figure out what the poem is and who wrote it. Happy hunting :) **

**Thanks to everyone who's kept loyal to this story and is continuing to review… I love you all and you all know who you are! Thanks guys, you're my emotional writing support team :D **


	12. Chapter 11

**Okie-dokey, Guten Morgan my friends. I'm so happy I've finally got this chapter done. I really hope you enjoy this and a big shout out to my friend Leah! She just joined and if anybody reading is a Harry Potter fan I would definatly recommend her work to you… you can find her on my favourite authors – She's LeahPoll ;) A thank you to Taylor as well, good luck with the rest of your exams my friend and thanks for the comment when you helped me with this a lil' **

**Anyways on with the story, eh? **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything… Don't burn me, I'll phone my priest if you try! **

_The streets around me are destitute; the buildings are no longer there…. All that is left is ashes and death. I look down this hopeless, demised street. The trees on either side of the street are burnt. Looking down the road I see a darkened figure. His face is concealed by the darkened aura that surrounds him. I walk faster towards this figure… I get the feeling I have known him forever. That we are tethered to one another. He turns to look at me, he has no face…_

"_Why can't I see who you are? Who are you?" _

"_You know who I am, Clarice. You just can't see... you never see me." _

"_What do you mean? I don't understand." _

_He looks away and a shot rings out. Crimson begins to seep in through the corners like an incurable disease. The streets disappear around him, before he himself is brushed away from my mind like sand. All that is left is the crimson stain of his form. In the distance I can hear screaming… they now scream for him… _

**HLHLHLHLHL**

Starling awoke in a cold sweat. The light of day was filtering through the curtains and spattered across her silk bed sheets, warming her body slightly. She tries to get her breathing under control and closes her eyes for a moment. Trying desperately to figure out the meaning of the few words that had been spoken during the dream. _I… I still don't understand it. I do see Doctor Lecter, I see him for what he is…wait, no I don't see him for what he is do I… I see him for what they tell me he is. That's why he bared his soul to me last night when I left… Oh god, last night. _She slapped her forehead at her stupidity last night. _I left him at the table. I stood up the Doctor Hannibal Lecter. _She violently snapped away from her thoughts when she heard loud chatting and laughter rise up from the ground floor of the house. She rose from the comfortable warmth of the bed, shivered involuntarily when her feet touched the cold wooden floor and padded out of the room towards the merry sounds.

When she entered the kitchen she saw Gladwin sitting at the small breakfast table in a full military uniform. She looked at the clock. _ It's 6:30 and she's already dressed. Am I lazy or does she have some insomnia problem? _

"Good Morning, Starling, have a seat." Gladwin held up her small espresso coffee in an overly cheerful and caffeine addicted manner. She was smiling incessantly..._Is Gladwin high or is it my imagination?_

"Hey, Gladwin." Starling mumbled before taking the seat she was offered. Starling finally realized that Gladwin wasn't going mad and talking to herself. She finally noticed the man sitting to her right.

"Mmm, Starling this is the Inspekteur der Polizei für Berlin, Wolfgang Pagel or just Wolf. Do you want some coffee?"

Starling grunted in agreement and surveyed Wolf. He was leaning against the wall and has messy black hair and green eyes; he is tall and built like a tank, there's a scar running down the right side of his face, it ends midway between the curve of his jaw and his chin. Pagel is also wearing a military uniform. He shakes Starling's hand firmly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Special Agent Starling."

"Wolf! Es ist Detektiv Starling." Hollie shouted over the noise of the coffee machine.

"Oh, es tut mir leid. Detective Starling. It's an honour to have you working with us. However you won't need to come in at all today. Due to _someone _lighting a cigarette inside the building while they were checking the gas."

"Oh… I'm sorry Wolf… I wasn't told. Next time I'll try and kill you by leaving the spare C4 underneath your desk while I detonate the rest of it to destroy a building." He smiled.

"That was once and you didn't get severely injured." Gladwin nods along sarcastically while bringing Starling's coffee over.

"If you want, Clarice you could always have a look around the city?"

"Yeah, I think that would be great but…I, erm..."

"You don't speak German?" Starling nods. "That's fine, most Germans know how to speak some English anyways but if you want I could always go with you?"

"Aber, Hollie, haben wir ein Treffen mit Ludwig auf die Sonderkommando Unternehmender 101. Schwarzen Adler Division."

"Ach, das ist scheiβe. Okay, Starling I can stay with you till half eleven if you want?" Starling shook her head.

"It's okay; I think I can make my own way."

"Yawohl, do you have enough money? Just in case take my car, it saves money on taxis and you basically don't have to pay for parking."

Gladwin checked her watch. She raised her eyebrows; obviously she had been oblivious to the time. She quickly downed her espresso and threw her keys towards Clarice before exiting the house.

"It's in the garage. See you later, Starling."

Wolf quickly followed, downing his coffee and giving Clarice a quick nod and goodbye before leaving.

After a long hot shower, Starling changed into a pair of jeans, a cream v neck English Cricket jumper and a pair of leather ankle boots. She went back downstairs and picked up the car keys from the hallway table. She went into the garage, expecting to see the stereotypical Volkswagen or Mercedes that apparently every German owned; she was surprised to see a cream Rolls Royce 1961 Silver Cloud II convertible. She smiled at the sight of the classic car and happily drove it away from the old garage into the unknown streets of Berlin.

**HLHLHLHLHL**

Clarice sighed as she sat down in the nearest café she could find. It had taken her two hours to navigate her way into the centre of Berlin. Eventually she had given up and asked a policeman for directions. She got out her mobile and used Google translate to order her coffee. She sat inside, next to the window. Her mind began to wander as she leant her head against the window, watching the new layers of snow begin to build amongst the landscape.

She felt a presence next to her and assumed it to be the waiter. She turned, smiling cheerfully and waiting to thank him.

"Hello Clarice."

Her face dropped as she saw him. Her heart beat became elevated once more and she tried to block out the burning images from last night. He smiled at her solemnly.

"May I sit with you?" She nodded stiffly and he sat across from her, crossing his legs in front of him, sitting at a slight angle, leaning against the window. His eyes scanned her face. _She looks tired._

"Doct…"

"Please, Clarice." He sounded agitated…_Wait, Hannibal Lecter, agitated… can that even happen? Don't be an idiot Starling, Of course it happens. _"I do believe your age and station has improved enough for you to call me by my given name, hmm?"

"Oh…okay…erm, Hannibal; I wanted to say… about last night. I'm…well, I'm sorry for standing you up." She lifted her gaze to meet his.

"Clarice..." She savoured the way he dragged out her name in his long elegant sigh. "It was mostly my fault; I wasn't exactly the perfect gentleman towards you. I may have taken my questioning a tad too far for the beginning of the evening. Will you allow me to make up for it today?"

She looked at him sceptically for a moment. _Oh, come on Starling, it took you two hours to find the damn centre of this city. He probably knows every damn shop in Berlin, the owners and the quickest way to get there. Would it hurt you that much too just go shopping with him? Hmmm, shopping with Hannibal Lecter? That could make a great T.V. program…Focus, girl… yes or no, he's waiting…_

"Okay."

He was caught off guard by her answer, he had prepared himself for the worst; that she would just walk out again or simply say _'no.' _That would probably be the worst of all the scenarios he had considered. Could he face her giving him a blunt rejection?

He smiled and stood up once more, offering her his hand. She took it after only a moment's hesitation, feeling an electric shock run throughout her body, resting at the base of her stomach and creating an ever present fire that ignited whenever he was near her. He led her out of the café and into the bustling street, holding her hand as they crossed the street and made their way under the Brandenburg Gate. The snow was still falling and as they walked down Unter der linden straβe, she smiled as she noticed the snow that fell into his slick black hair, freckling it.

They had been walking companionably for about two hours now, simply talking about books, wine, food, films, music and just life in general. For once he hadn't tried to probe her for answers to unanswerable questions and she found herself enjoying his company. Now, he led her into the nearest department store, almost against her own will, and started to browse. Every so often he would pick up a dress or a scarf – ponder over it for a short while before putting it back. They came to a halt in front of a dazzling baby-blue sequinned halter neck gown. He picked up her correct size without even casting a glance at her.

"Clarice…" She turned to face him. "Would you indulge me by trying this on, please my dear?"

He held it up for her to see it - hiding the price, however. She contemplated for just a moment before rolling her eyes and nodding. He leads her towards the dressing rooms, his hand a fleeting touch away from her skin. She can feel it's radiating warmth and bites her lip to stop herself from forcing his hand to touch her. She went behind the smooth fabric curtain and started to undress. Midway into putting the dress on she heard a light tap on the wall of her dressing room.

"Clarice, I found some matching shoes you may like."

She smiled as he slipped them under the curtain, never once invading her privacy. _He is forever the gentleman… Oh, fuck! I can't reach the damn zipper. _She fumbled around for a while, trying desperately to reach the zip. She swore and lost her footing, falling unceremoniously onto the linoleum flooring with a thump.

"Clarice, are you okay in there?"

_Fuck, now you've done it… Just ask him to do up the damn zipper… you know you want to, little Starling…Oh, you want more than that, don't you, girl? _ The little voice in her head was starting to become an elegant, annoying blend of Ardelia and Lecter.

"Erm… doc… I mean Hannibal?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"Would you mind, er… giving me a hand with this zipper?"

He complied by silently slipping into the changing room, upon finding her on the floor he raised a quizzical eyebrow before to helping her to her feet. He stood behind her in his elegant, black suit with a light blue tie and perfectly white shirt and his hand gently skimmed down her left side and rested at her waist momentarily. His eyes locked with hers in the mirror, deep blue melting into maroon. They never broke eye contact as he skilfully – and with deliberate slowness - pulled the zipper closed.

"Beautiful, Clarice."

It was a mere whisper into her hair but she heard it. She turned in his arms, for once feeling safe, and placed a hand on his chest, he took a deep breath, inhaling her scent: Honey and orange blossom shampoo, almond soap and that base scent… that unmistakable smell that was Clarice Starling. It was a smell of purity and summer. A smell he would never forget in a million years.

She looked up into his eyes, searching for some meaning in them. He complied, showing her his soul for the third time in eighteen hours. Her hand rested on his cheek and she leant forward, hesitantly at first, pulling back for only a moment, before leaning forward again and pressing her lips to his. He remained stoical for a moment, not moving or showing any signs of emotion at all; he was in shock of her gentle kiss. She pulled back and looked into his eyes again, he saw a firm mixture of love, lust and understanding in her eyes and he allowed himself to finally break composure. He bent his head down and pressed his lips to hers once more, this time both responded to the kiss. Their lips dancing the old dance and their hearts began to meet in rhythm. One of his hands twisted in her hair, while the other moved down to her lower back, lightly stroking the smooth, exposed skin. Her own hand stayed at his cheek, while the other caressed the hair on the nape of his neck.

"Clarice." Lecter's voice was husky. "Why don't I go pay for the dress and shoes and then we can continue this in a more… appropriate setting, hmm?"

She nodded, hurriedly slipping out of the dress and shoes. This was defiantly a good day for both of them.

**HLHLHLHLHL**

**Hope you liked it. Please remember to read and review, guys… I know I don't have to remind you but I need something to write down here… By the way, I'm also working on a prologue to this story in the form of Gladwin's diary… if anybody wants to read any of that so far PM me ;) **


	13. Chapter 12

**Hallo Kameraden :) Sorry, I just finished one of many German speaking examinations :( Anyways sorry for the delay in chapter but hey I did give you two chapters in the space of 4 days. I would like to thank Loving Hannibal for her help with this chapter and co-writing it, LH it's been a pleasure working with you and I hope to do so in the future :) **

**Disclaimers: I don't own anything... blah, blah, blah... **

**Erm, if anybody knows any good European Universities that do good medical courses PM me please... I can't afford Cambridge and I have to look at all options. Oh and 24 sleeps till Christmas people! =D  
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As soon as Lecter had his credit card back in one hand and his purchases in the other he all but ran back to Clarice. He spotted her immediately as she stood in the entrance to the department store. Hannibal slowed to a walk in order to appreciate the way the light filtered through the opening and closing doors, gleaming behind her form. He admired her illuminated beauty, illuminating as the angel he had always seen in her.

He picked up the pace again when her eyes found him in the crowd. The moment he was within reaching distance she quickly took possession of his hand and started to lead him into the street.

"Hannibal, this _more appropriate setting_ you spoke of?"

He smiled.

"Well, I was thinking my home but if you prefer we could always go to your current residence." _Yeah, my residence might be…Hold on girl… it's not even your home but we'll probably be gone before she got home…Wait, did I just say we?_

"My place?" she questioned.

He nods, smiling and they walk toward his car. He holds the door open for her as she enters the car before closing it and taking his place behind the wheel.

The drive was brief taking no more than twenty minutes and all the time she had her head resting against the passenger window, looking aimlessly out into the scenery.

He takes long glances at her, deviating every so often from the road, and smiles gently to himself. When they reach the house, Clarice gets out the car and walks up the stone steps; Hannibal is at her side the entire time, staying just half a step behind, allowing her to lead and enjoying the view.

She unlocks the door, allowing them entry. He closes the door behind them and immediately turns back around to face her.

Clarice awkwardly rubs her wrist. _Yeah, great time to feel self-conscious girl… didn't feel this in the changing rooms, did ya? _

"Do you…want a drink? Great…what would you like, Hannibal?"

"Clarice, I believe there's some lovely wine down in the cellar, why don't we start there, hmm?"

"Would you allow me to choose the wine?" she asked, wanting a bit of time and space to settle her nerves.

"If you like, certainly." Hannibal places a hand on the small of her back and guides her to the cellar door. He flips on the light. "I'll choose some appropriate entertainment."

Clarice nods and slowly makes her way down to the cellar. Hannibal strolls into the living room, heading directly for the sound system. He smiles when he looks behind the large collection of CDs to find a box of old vinyl records. He flips through them. _Hmm, Gershwin, Beethoven, Fleetwood Mac…_His eyes narrowed. _Bach, Chopin, Pink Floyd! Oh, my dear… has your taste in music dwindled so much over the years? _He continued to look through the records until he found exactly what he was looking for. He smiled as he flipped the record from its sleeve and delicately placed it on the turntable, slowly guiding the needle towards the spinning disk.

Clarice began to walk back up the old stone steps of the basement when the crisp sounds of the vinyl met her ears and she smiled.

_Really, Hannibal? Wait… when did I naturally start to call him Hannibal? _ She walked into the living room. She found him lounging gracefully on the sofa, an arm draped over the back of it and two wine glasses sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

"Really, Hannibal, I never thought Leonard Cohen would be you style?" She placed the wine on the table as he stood up.

"Who would have thought a moment of romance in a boutique changing room would be my style either but there we have it. The day is full of surprises. Which wine did you choose?"

"Well, I thought we might like a snack, some fruit and cheese…pastry maybe. I chose a dessert wine. A 2007 Hans Lang Riesling."

"Your tastes have improved my dear."

Clarice handed Hannibal the bottle and a corkscrew. "Here you open the bottle, I'll get us something to snack on and…" her voice trailed off.

Sensing her nerves, Hannibal filled the silence. "Clarice please relax, I have no expectations of you therefore you have no reason to feel anxious. Let us enjoy the wine and each other's company. We will see where the evening takes us."

Clarice smiled and released the breath she had not even realized she held. Hurrying to the kitchen she assembled a plate of cheeses, grapes, apricots, and an additional tray of miniature pastries. She carried them to the living room and set them on the table along with plates and napkins.

"Please, help yourself Hannibal."

He smiled.

"What are you smiling about."

"Your recent discovery of my given name…it pleases me." Hannibal patted his hand on the sofa cushion beside his. "Sit. Please. We can eat later."

Clarice smoothed her hands over her clothing as if smoothing her frazzled nerves. She took her place beside him and leaned her body into his. Her ear over his heart confirmed his heightened physical state.

"Your heart beat is so strong." She commented, floating her hand over his chest allowing it to rest there.

"You have that effect on me Clarice. I am…out of sorts when you are near."

"Does that bother you?"

"No, I find it curious."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Oh Clarice, it is a very good thing."

Hannibal reached for Clarice's chin and tilted her face upward. "I would like to kiss you, Clarice. May I?"

Clarice nodded, "I'd like that very much."

Hannibal lowered his head to hers and captured her lips gently, knowing from her emotional state that she was anxious, nervous even. Tenderly he allowed his lips to wander over hers, parted slightly as he tasted the salt and the scent of her flesh. Hannibal explored her mouth, though not intrusively, and was rewarded with a soft sound from Clarice.

"Hmmmm…Hannibal."

Clarice reached up, her hands wrapping around his shoulders pulling him down to her. She could feel his muscles ripple just beneath his silk shirt as his strong hands explored her body. He was careful that his touch remained encouraging, tempting, leading, suggestive, but not overtly sexual.

Clarice sought his mouth and eagerly ran her tongue across his lower lip. It was so soft and pliant that the silkiness of it surprised her. Hannibal tilted his head seeking her mouth more fully, pulling her lower lip into his, teasing it , holding it, tugging at it gently.

Hannibal's passion was building to a point where he was having difficulty controlling his urge to throw decorum to the wind and mount Clarice.

_ No… not this way… not with my Clarice. Not the first time…Not like this._

He steadied his want and pulled her close.

"Claariiice," breathless, he drew out her name as his eyes devoured her body. Hannibal's chest heaved as he imagined her form beneath the fabric.

Clarice had never experienced a man's gaze upon her so intensely. She was uncomfortable both with her own desire and his exploration of her body. She had never felt so naked while being completely clothed before.

"Hannibal…I…."

He covered her lips with his, "Shhhhh, don't speak."

He bowed his head again searching her flesh and he gripped her throat with his mouth the pressure and the passion stifling her breathing.

Growing breathless, the anticipation burning in her belly she gasped as his mouth massaged her throat and captured her breath. As Hannibal pressed his mouth against her flesh and teased it with his teeth Clarice grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him in, wrapping him around her and she melded against him.

"Jesus…Hannibal…Jesus…"

"I am yours, Clarice…all yours," he growled into her ear.

Clarice's breathing became shallow, quickening with the activity. Hannibal's hands smoothed over her body, following the curve of her hip, pressing gently on her lower abdomen, his thumb resting near her navel, his fingers spanning the area just below. Clarice shifted under his touch. She wanted him to move his hands lower but he did not shift their position.

"Hannibal? Hannibal?"

"Shhhh, Clarice…in time."

He raised a hand from her waist and explored the muscles of her abdomen, tracing his fingers along the striations. "I would like to touch you, Clarice. You have lovely breasts."

Hannibal was not expecting verbal assent, he was merely being polite and offering that she could limit the contact as she wished. Clarice arched her back, giving Hannibal full access to her torso.

He smiled as her body undulated against his.

_Permission granted._

Hannibal skimmed his right hand along her rib cage and settled a cupped hand just beneath her breast. Again, she shifted, pressing into his body, escalating the intrusive nature of his touch.

Again she allowed a gift in the form of a soft moan that lilted from her lips caressing his ear.

Hannibal burned for her though he was careful that his hands upon her body remain tender, loving and certain not to stray too far and give into his own lust. He whispered against her neck, his voice hot and sultry against her skin, "Clarice, I want you…do you know how much I want you?"

Clarice, dizzy with her own desire could barely respond. "Yea…I know, Hannibal…I know."

"Do you feel the want within yourself? Do you have need of me as well, Clarice?"

She twisted her body against his, "Yes…God…yes."

Hannibal pulled Clarice across his lap. She could feel the heat that burned within her and blushed as her body came into contact with his. She could feel the fullness of his desire as Hannibal's body responded to hers. Clarice's mind swirled a thousand thoughts at once.

_Hurry…hurry, Hannibal…no...No…wait...it's…it's…too soon…it's…too much…but…I need this…I need him…_

Her heart pounded uncontrollably. She wanted him but was too afraid to allow it. She was too afraid to stop it. Clarice Starling was terrified that if she did this, if she accepted his body, accepted his love, that she would never be able to leave his side. Clarice was at war within herself. Her mind needed to find distance but her heart and her body wanted him close.

_What do I do…Hannibal…tell me what to do. _

Pushing her reservations aside she tasted his lips and his neck, in the heat of her passion, her teeth found the cap of his shoulder as she bit deeply into his flesh.

Hannibal groaned in pain and pleasure as he lingered on the edges of desire, careful not to tip the scale too far forward. He understood all too well that Clarice was dangerous to him. He had limited control in her presence.

Soon the touches became grasping as she pulled him over her crushing her body against his. She matched his passion and matched his aggression as her hands fumbled with his tie, sliding the knot just far enough. Hannibal growled and yanked the tie over his head, tossing it aside. She tugged at his shirt, the covered buttons confounded her. She grumbled her frustrations into his shirt, against his chest.

Seeing that her want matched his, Hannibal gripped the edges of the shirt and tore it open, sending buttons bouncing along the floor. He grabbed at her arms and pulled her against him.

Clarice immediately reached for his chest, twisting her fingers into the soft hair tugging at him roughly. Hannibal groaned with pleasure as her nails raked red tracks along his skin.

"Clarice…Clarice...Clarice…" he repeated her name over and over as her teeth bit at his chin, nicking the flesh.

"Hannibal…Hannibal…" Clarice reached for his belt and ripped at the strap attempting to free him.

Hannibal reached down and as he drew the strap back and began to open his trousers, he paused.

"What?" Clarice questioned.

Hannibal closed his belt and sat back on the sofa, holding Clarice close. He whispered in her ear.

"Not like this, Clarice. We must…slow down. Our first time should be…"

"Special?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I want you…more than I can express. This isn't the way I pictured it. I'm not a teenager. I shouldn't be acting like one."

Hannibal slipped himself from beneath Clarice and stood. He fixed his clothing as best he could and bowed to kiss her. He lingered a moment as their lips touched. He turned to the door.

"When we make love…I will have the moment perfect, Clarice. You are worth the effort and more than worth the wait. I'm sorry. I hope you understand and are not upset with me."

"No…I'm not upset…I'm…"

"Relieved?"

"Yes, relieved."

Hannibal nodded his understanding and without turning, so as not to test his resolve, left Clarice.

Alone in the room, the feeling of his lips were still burning on her own.

Missing him already, Clarice silently stood in the middle of the room all alone and understood completely.

Hannibal sat in his car breathing deeply as he enjoyed her scent still upon him. He would make a plan, he and Clarice would make love and he would never leave her side.

**I hoped you liked the chapter guys... please make my day and press the lil' review button and follow the steps on your screen. I usually read all your reviews in maths :) They brighten up my day...**


	14. Chapter 13

**Hey, sorry this took me so long but you know what it's like :/ Anyways, 1 week till Christmas people! Woo! So to everybody out there: Frohe Weinachten, Merry Christmas, Gelukkig kerstfeest, ¡Feliz Navidad, Merry Christmas - In an Aussie accent for Taylor ;) My boss is making me work Christmas Eve :/ **

**Someone said to me, 'But people might tip you..." **

**I replied, ' I've never seen anyone tip a chemist :('  
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**A/N For disclaimers see previous chapters! **

The dull thump of Gladwin's boots resounded throughout the empty house. She stopped at the pier glass mirror, sighing she rested her head against the cool glass and inhaled deeply. The usual scents of smoke, alcohol and old paper met her but there was something different. She exhaled slowly, the thoughts leaving her mind quickly. Placing her Walther on the side board she walked into the living room, half a smile playing on her war weathered features. Starling had fallen asleep on the sofa.

Gladwin waltzed over to the still spinning record player, gently removing the needle and flipping the vinyl back into its sleeve. She quickly flipped through the stack of records, taking out a record and placing it onto the turntable and gently guiding the needle towards her intended track with skilful accuracy. Her hand moved towards the sound, turning it up to its maximum volume.

Starling was thrown from her peaceful sleep – and the sofa – by the overly loud sounds of Benny Goodman's Sing, Sing, Sing. She rubbed her eyes and looked towards the stereo system where a half-smiling Gladwin stood above her.

"Guten Abend, Detektiv Starling. Did you have a pleasant nap?"

Starling growled and stood up; annoyed the Gladwin had interrupted her all too vivid dream.

"Ye..yeah, I guess I was." Gladwin smirked before throwing a case file at Starling.

"We came here for a reason, Starling. I want you to sit down and analyse that file, it's our current case. Now, where's my car?"

_Fucking hell, girl! You left her car… her ROLLS ROYCE! Why does she have to own expensive cars? _Starling chewed her lip slightly, looking down to the floor.

"Starling, where's my Royce?"

"I…erm… Well I left it in the city centre and…."

"YOU WHAT!" You left my car in the middle of fucking Berlin. What were you thinking? That car was…."

Gladwin growled, violently removing the needle off of the record and walking to the house phone. She quickly dialled a number and picked up the receiver

"Hallo! Wolf, I need you to find my Royce. You have? Where was…. It's been what! Verdammt Hölle That was a present…. Ja, Danke Wolf. Bis Bald"

She viciously slammed the receiver into the cradle and glared at Starling. _That piercing gaze rivals that of Hannibal's but at least his holds some warmth towards you girl. _

"What's up with your car then?"

Gladwin slowly closed her eyes, the vein visibly pulsing in her neck. She opened and closed her fist before slamming it into the wall with unnatural strength, little flakes of plaster tumbled to the floor. She breathed deeply before slowly pulling away and turning to Starling. She felt slightly scared, never before had she seen Gladwin truly angry. She had always been too calm and almost emotionless.

"My car was stolen and then it was driven into the river. They fished it out about an hour ago."

"I'm… I'm sorry about your car, Hollie. It's just I sort of… well I…"

"Starling that car was a present from a…" She hesitated. "A very close friend, but you know what… that doesn't fucking matter anymore I'll just pay for the damages and the restoration of the car and everything will be fine and dandy, eh?"

"Look, Gladwin… why don't I…"

She was cut off.

"Why don't you just sit down and read the god-damned file. I think you've probably done enough for today."

"You can't tell me what to do. I'm your superior…"

"Ja und, ihr punkt ist? Look, I'll sit down and read the file with you if I must but…"

"What have you been doing all day if not working on this case?"

Gladwin sighed deeply, walking over to the armchair and gracefully placing herself down into the seat she rubbed her eyes before pulling out a cigarette and offering one to Starling. She denied and Gladwin shrugged before lighting her own rollup.

"I've been in meetings all day. You know what it's like being a decorated war hero. Everyone wants your opinion on everything from homeland security to what colour we should paint the office. However that wasn't the most disturbing thing I learnt today."

Starling sat down across from Gladwin. The smoke tainting the air a lifeless grey, swirling around between them like the tension and – on Starling's side – this new taste of distrust that had soured their friendship these past few months. Starling was about to ask about the 'most disturbing thing' but was immediately cut off by Gladwin.

"Right, shall we get on with this file."

Gladwin lent forward from her chair, flicking ash into the ashtray before pulling out a spare file from her satchel.

"Nine people, murdered. Nothing connecting any of them, they were all scattered around random places in Berlin... that's strange." Gladwin raised her eyebrows.

"What?"

"It's not important but all these places, they're all places I used to haunt and… and a Major in the Panzer Division was killed and left in St. Hedwig's Cathedral, which is very strange."

"Why? I mean there's loads of Majors in the army and a cathedral may mean the killer's religious or…"

"No, it's just I got…when I first became a Major I was on the front lines in the Panzer, or as you would call it 'armoured' division and I… my _friend _got married in St. Hedwig's cathedral."

Starling looked sceptically at Gladwin. _Why does she lie about this marriage? I mean, the guy couldn't have done something that bad that she has to deny his existence… She must only be divorced or something of the sought. Maybe it's time to just confront her like you did in New York, girl. At least then you got some answers. _

"Hollie, I know you were married. If it was you who got married there just say. I'm annoyed that you're lying to me, I thought we were friends. I mean, come on… there's nothing to be ashamed about if your husband left you. It happens to every…"

"Clarice, I wouldn't start assuming if I were you… you know what people say about it."

"Gladwin, I'm just fed up with you lying to me all the time. I've only just figured out that you're a high ranking member of the military and now you were married. I mean, how do I know your name's even Hollie Gladwin? You could be Eva Peron for all I know. How corrupt and immoral can he be that you…"

"STARLING! Don't you ever say a bad word about my late husband. Hans was a good man, he… he cared about me, about us!"

"What… what do you mean _late husband_?"

"I mean dead! He died about 18 months ago; he was murdered in this fucking house!"

A pang of guilt hit Starling hard. She had assumed. _What did Crawford say about assuming, girl! It makes an Ass out a u and me._

"I'm… I'm sorry Hollie, I didn't know…"

"Yes. Why should you fucking have to know? What's in the past has nothing to do with you, it's my past and unless it affects you right now it has nothing to do with you."

Hollie stood, extinguishing her cigarette sharply in the ashtray before pulling on her visor cap and started to exit the room.

"Where are you going, Gladwin?" Starling asked, slightly too sharply for her liking. Hollie turned in the doorway, clicking the heels of her riding boots together.

"Out, mein Hauptsturmführer, or do I have a meeting with the Fuhrer?"

The sarcasm in Gladwin's voice pierced Clarice. She could be so bitter and venomous at times. She turned away from Clarice and walked away, slamming the front door behind her.

_What the fuck is wrong with her? It's snowing again, there's obviously a storm coming and she's outside. Look, girl, just give her space… but if something happens to her then it's on my conscience. I couldn't have that, they would scream even louder than before. _

Starling stood, grabbing the trench coat that was hanging on the coat stand and running out the door. She ran down the street, following the lone boot treads that had imprinted into the snow. The wind became stronger, the snow spiralling around her; she could barely see her own hand in front of her face. _Fucking hell, you shouldn't have done this! Why do you always listen to your damn conscience? _

She jumped when she felt the inside pocket of her coat vibrate. She pulled the phone out, forgetting that this wasn't her coat and wasn't her phone, she answered it. Before she could speak she heard Gladwin's voice on the line.

"Look, I can't talk right now…"

"Hollie, listen to me… please."

Starling froze as she heard Lecter's smooth elegant voice on the other end of the line; Hollie was obviously using her wireless Bluetooth headset.

"No, Hannibal. I can't she implied that Hans was a fucking corrupt, immoral man who left me. She assumes too much, what am I meant to do? Tell her about everything that's happening and has happened… maybe I should tell her how much I know you as well."

"Hollie, please, I would never expect you to tell her anything like that, not unless you wanted to… I just phoned because I wanted to see you as a friend. No planning. No discussing my courting techniques. I just wanted to sit down with you and have a drink, like old times?"

"I would but…"

"But?"

"But after the news I got today, I need to go sort out some things." _She's not still on about that fucking car is she?_

"What news?"

"H, I would prefer not…"

"What news?" He pressed her.

"Nikolai's back! Okay, I need to go work out security measures for Starling."

"What about yourself?"

"I'll be fine, don't worry about me, worry about her. I need to meet you anyway, I have a gut feeling about this case but I need to make sure. If I gave you the file…"

"Of course, I'll meet you tomorrow outside the Reichstag at nine?"

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

The line went dead and Starling felt her blood boil. _How could Gladwin know Lecter? How could she not be in his case file? She should be in a prison right now for aiding and abetting a known fugitive. How can she get away with this? Who's this Nikolai and why does she have to do security measures? _All these questions and more plagued Starling as she walked back to the house, trying desperately to find her own footstep prints in the ever-building snow, tomorrow she would follow them. Tomorrow She would get her answers.

**Okie-dokey Ol' Chaps... I really wasn't sure about this chapter so please review and tell me what you think :) Have a great christmas guys :)**


	15. Chapter 14

**Okay, this one's a long chapter for me and that's all thanks to Grymmarie who gave me a hand through my writer's block and co-wrote the chapter, even if I stayed up till half five in the morning to write it with her... and then fell asleep :S  
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**Anyways, 4 days till Christmas :D **

_The people filter through these streets, still war-torn as before, but now there is life, now the people rebuild what was lost. She starts to walk down the street; there is still a darkened aura about this place and Starling's eyes start scanning the crowds for any sign of him._

_Starling shivers involuntarily as she feels his presence near, turning around quickly her eyes frantically look for him. They eyes rest upon a couple and her heart chips and crumbles slightly as this blonde haired woman, clad in a peppermint blue dress rests her hand on his chest, trailing it down towards his abdomen before leaning into her man and whispering gently in his ear. _

_His eyes shoot up and look directly at Clarice, that deep maroon blending to her soft blue. He softly speaks to the woman, her face unknown to Clarice; she leaves him, her scarred hand brushing his cheek as she does so. He begins to walk towards her, that charming smile plastered over his face. _

_He goes to speak to Starling but the crashing of piano keys stops him, he frowns slightly. _

"_Time to find out the truth, my little starling." He winks before the image begins to break like sand being blown away. _

**HLHLHLHLHL**

Starling groans, the harsh sounds of the piano are still being played; she looks over at the clock. _It's half seven, for crying out loud… why the fuck is she playing piano music on her stereo this loud? Her neighbours must hate her. _She buried her head in the pillow, trying to block out the noise and go back to sleep. She growled loudly again before throwing the defenceless pillow at the wall and throwing herself from the bed.

_Fuck! This house is cold; does she ever turn the heating on? _Starling snatched the plush robe from the back of the bedroom door before making her way downstairs and walking into the living room, surprised to see Gladwin sitting at an old piano, a glass of red wine next to her, her hands skilfully floating over the keys as she finished playing Beethoven's fifth symphony. She turned slightly, taking a sip of the wine before addressing Clarice.

"Good morning, Clarice." Her tone was cold, icy.

"Hey, Hollie, I never knew you played piano."

"Yes, well as you so expertly pointed out yesterday, there's a lot you don't know about me."

The sarcasm hurt but Starling knew to some extent she deserved it. She sighed and moved towards the sofa, gently nibbling on her bottom lip as she sat down and picked up the random book left on the coffee table, _Hmm, Wilfred Owen? He was a war poet or something… come on, girl think! _ Starling flipped through the book until she came upon the bookmarked page and began to read:

_Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,  
>Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,<br>Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs  
>And towards our distant rest began to trudge… <em>

"Enjoying a bit of Owen there, Starling? I must admit, he's a brilliantly passionate poet. I haven't read him in years though. He speaks truthfully though, doesn't he?"

Starling's brow furrowed.

"The old lie: Dulce et Decorum est, Pro Patria Mori. It still holds truth today. Nothing is sweet and honourable. It's a lie. Morals and nobleness are all well and good until you see what humanity does to each other for land, for money, for pride. I guess you can say I use to live by that old lie, once upon a time…"

Clarice set the book back down.

"What happened?"

"He happened. Everything happened, I suppose. Little things building up on a less then sturdy foundation."

She sat back in her seat, hugging her robe tight to stay warm.

"What do you mean? Who happened?"

Gladwin turned around fully on the piano stool to face Starling. She sighed.

"The war happened. Our lives were disrupted all for the gain of our great leader. They call those years my 'Golden Years' to some extent they were but the things I saw... the things I did..."

"Gladwin, I'm sure whatever you did, it was with the best intentions or maybe servitude. But you can't dwell on them."

Clarice shivered, signalling Gladwin to build a fire to warm the room.

"Can't brave a little chill?" Gladwin poked.

"What? This is nothing, back home we had winters that would get colder than a witch's tit in a brass bra."

Clarice smiled. Gladwin grimaced slightly, before smirking.

"We had winters in Russia that if you went outside at the wrong time the fluid in your lungs could freeze in an instant."

"You were in Russia?"

"Yes and Lithuania and Africa and then Poland... It's all very boring though."

Starling sat forward on the couch as to better hear Gladwin's every word.

"Can you... Can you tell me 'bout it?"

Gladwin took another sip of her wine, contemplating Clarice's request.

"I don't know what to tell you, I started off as a doctor, was made an officer and moved to the armoured division then after a few years on the front line I was transferred once more, beyond the front line. I'm not meant to say anything about it but those bastards at high command almost got me killed 37 times. I was transferred to the special operations division, 101st Schwarzen Adler, to be precise. We went beyond the lines into enemy territory... This,"

She held up her right forearm, revealing a patterned scar intricately weaving its way around her arm, Starling winced as she imagined the pain that was caused to create such a scar.

"This was from my first black operation. I was one of the main people to bring down the fucking KGB and Nikolai with it!"

_Nikolai and the KGB?' _Clarice thought, holding back the urge to spout out every question. Her voice remained levelled as she spoke

"Wow, so you took down some pretty powerful people, huh? And you lived to tell the tale." Clarice realized that there was a lot more to Gladwin then she let on.

"I plan to live long enough to tell more, too."

Gladwin finished off her wine, reaching for the bottle to pour another and round it was also empty.

"Guess it's time for something a little stronger."

"Keep drinking like that and I'm sure you'll preserve yourself when you do die. It's it a little early for drinking anyway?"

Gladwin let out a rich laugh, slightly tainted from years of alcohol and death but a cheerfulness continued to break through.

"Starling, it's never too early for a drink. How rude of me, would you like anything? I'm about to open the Chateau Petrus? No, oh well Starling, maybe another time."

Gladwin sat back down on the piano stool, her posture never faltering. She pointed at the piano.

"Any requests, Starling?"

"Just one, who's Nikolai?"

Gladwin poured the wine and downed the glass in one go.

"Nikolai was the final leader of the KGB" Gladwin's face hardens, "But why would you be interested in him?"

"Well I haven't seen a good crime film in a long time and I think your stories would be better than film. Why not just jump to the end, the epic battle of good and evil, the defeat of the final boss."

Clarice tried to maintain her tone of voice, she wanted so badly to yell at Gladwin for the truth, and how she knew Lecter, so personally, as to call him by his given name.

"There's not much more I can tell you, he was weak and easy to defeat."

Gladwin looked away while she lied to Clarice. Years of training to survive through torture and interrogation seemed to crumble when she spoke of Nikolai.

Starling's eyes narrowed.

"Come on, Gladwin, there must be a bit more than that, I mean come on this is the fucking KGB you're talkin' about."

"Yes. Yes, it is the KGB. They were worse than the hell-worshiping Gestapo!"

Her voice raised a few decibels but never once showed any sign of weakness.

"You think war is like some damn crime film? War is only enjoyable to those who have never experienced it, Clarice. Sometimes I wonder if you actually got that psych degree. You want to know about Nikolai Glazastov. Well then, why don't we start from your favorite theme? Betrayal, Section Chief Crawford must have loved you when you ran out on him to become a lowly police detective."

Starling knew she had that coming but it still made her anger flare, but only for a moment. _Come on girl, you're so close to the truth. Don't lose it now._

"I betrayed him..."

"How? What makes you think you betrayed him? He was the enemy."

"Verdammt noch mal, Clarice! It was different back then! Things... Things happened that should not have but they happen. I don't think you'd understand."

"No, I'm sorry; my psych classes never covered 'understanding situations of cause and effect.'"

Clarice bit back with sarcasm.

"I may not have been in war but I imagine the drug raids I participated in will be the closest I have gotten to war. Don't discredit me for my 'lack of experiences,' I am you're friend whether you like it or not and I will not sympathize with you but I will give every ounce of my empathy, consideration and compassion to you. I just want the truth."

Clarice finished with a sigh. Gladwin growled, downing another glass of the deep crimson liquid.

"You really want to know! I fell in love with him! Der Hölle Rache fell in love with the enemy... you fucking happy now, Starling. You finally have my oldest secret. You realize this though had we left the final operation any longer I wouldn't have been able to serve my country. I would have served my greed, my love... my heart."

Clarice's face drained of colour, her heart sank. She couldn't think of how to respond. Clarice hung her head a lower thinking about the position Gladwin was placed in and the torment she must have faced. A thought pierced her, prickling the hairs on her arms and back of her neck.

"Thank you." Her voice soft; matching her blue eyes.

Gladwin looked back up at her, deciding to finish the story she had been pushed to start.

"Clarice," Her voice was soft, losing all cynicism and coldness, "When I chose my country instead of him it was what was correct at the time. I paid the price for my mistake but there's one thing I can say I did for myself that night; I stopped them from killing him, I told them that I would take him to a POW camp. It's safe to say he never got there."

She looked away from Starling to the wall clock. _8:30 need to get a move on. Stop feeling all melancholic and upset, woman!_

"Starling, I have to go."

"Where?"

"If I told you that I'm afraid I would have to kill you."

_Best let her go. _Clarice thought, raising her hands in defeat,

"Haha ok Double-O-Seven. But answer me this, Mr. Bond, will you attempt to drink under the table tonight?" Clarice quirked a brow with a smirk.

"Attempt? That word doesn't exist in my vocabulary." Gladwin shot back with a hardy laugh.

"Now, Starling, I really need to shoot but hey, if you want I should be in at a reasonable time this evening so I'll cook? Great, righty-ho I'll see you this evening."

Gladwin smiled as she walked off into the snow covered streets. As soon as she closed the door starling ran up the stairs to shower and change, she still had some cash so she could get a taxi to the Reichstag.

Clarice headed out the door just short of 9am. Getting a cab took nearly the same amount of effort that would rival New York's taxis. Unsure of how long the car ride would be she would arrive after the two met up. She'd have to be careful not to be spotted or heard. She finally flagged a cabby down, crawling in she informs him,

"Hi, I need to get to a place called Reichstag, as quick as possible."

"Klar, Dame" The driver shook his head. "Verdammte Amerikaner" he mumbled under his breath.

She jumped out the cream Mercedes as soon as he slowed outside a large, imposing building with a glass domed room. On the building Starling could see the words 'Dem Deutschen Volk.'

Clarice waked through the large open spaced garden. Her eyes rested upon the couple only a few meters in front of her, she calmly sat on the nearest bench trying to blend in.

"Hollie, if you're right then both of you are in danger. This killer won't stop until he gets what he's after."

"And what's that, Hannibal?"

"You."

"Will you watch over Clarice? She can't get involved with this, Hannibal."

"Mmm... I'm afraid you don't fully comprehend her, mein Herzchen. She is persevering and will not yield when her mind is set."

"Is that why you love her?" Clarice blushed when she heard Gladwin ask, but both women waited for his reply that never came.

"I will do my best to keep her out of harm's way."

"You mean out of my way..."

"Hollie, you're not alone this time, it's nothing like before. Let us help you."

"Hannibal, you may believe that but... but this is my final tango with Nikolai, I'm not having either of you getting hurt in this, Nikolai is now the leader of the Russian Mafia. He has powerful friends... "

"Hollie, when we first met back in 1989 you went into a psychotic delusion triggered by the memory of what he did to you. Do you think he's changed since '89? You've defiantly changed but every hero has their Achilles heel. He's yours."

"Like Starling is yours?"

"Genau, mein Lieber."

Hannibal smiled. Clarice did not. _'Ugh please don't continue talking in German!'_ She thought leaning a little closer towards them. Hannibal closed his eyes, taking in an intense amount of air while the smile on his face remained. Hannibal returned his attention back to Gladwin.

"Hollie, I am here for you. You know what I can do for you; all you need is to ask it of me."

"Danke, but I can handle this. I need to finish what I started. Your presence is desired elsewhere."

Gladwin averted her eyes away from Hannibal; they shot directly into Starling's own. Hollie smiled quickly before turning back to Hannibal, "You still owe me coffee."

"You're quiet correct, my dear. Do you want it now?" She nodded, walking side by side with Lecter, slipping her hand into his.

Starling felt a pang of jealousy hit her as she sat on the bench, her eyes following the couple as they walked away. She stood and bent down to pick up her handbag. Her eyes met a pair of well-polished, wing tipped shoes. Clarice paused; the person was close, invading her personal space. He had a cultured feel, dressed to the nines, intoxicating aftershave; he towered over Clarice with more than a foot.

His lips honeyed with a smile, eyes too dark to announce a colour of any shade. Clarice stood frozen, her training kicked in high gear, intuition sensitive to her circumstances, but running or calling out for her friend was locked away. The handsome man raised his hand to her chin.

"O petʹ, prekrasnaya ledi, kogda so mnoĭ

Grustnye pesni iz Gruzii ne bolyee:

Oni prinosyat v moyeĭ pamyati

Drugoĭ zhizni,dalekiĭ bereg."

His voice was melodious with words she's never heard before. The tips of his fingers felt smooth as silk on her skin.

"Hello, little birdie."

Starling's scream was muffled as his hand clamped down over her mouth and he spun her around so that her back was pressed against the length of his body.

"Now, now, calm down... we can't have you getting injured can we?"

Starling continued to struggle under this man's iron grip. He took hold of her hand, his fingers entwining with hers. Quickly he gripped one finger, bending it back until he felt the bone fracture. Clarice went to scream out in pain but a damp cloth went over her face, it smelt strongly of alcohol.

Clarice felt her legs give out on her. _Hannibal, help! Shit! Hannibal?_ Was all she could think prior to her vision going black.

A dark coloured sedan pulled up next to Nikolai and Clarice. He slid her languid body in to the back seat with ease. Nikolai looked back at the cafe, watching Hollie and Dr. Lecter enjoying each other's company.

"I'll need your place for this scenario to-" Hannibal stopped, a familiar sweet-smell passed by. He knew all too well what it was.

His head shot up like that of a meerkat and he scanned the area, looking for any sign of her. His eyes rested on the black sedan.

"What is it, H?" He nodded towards the sedan. Hollie's eyes locked with Nikolai's and she gasped. She went to withdraw her gun but Nikolai shook his head, motioning to the still body in the back seat.

Hannibal was seething; he stood to make his way over to the car. Hollie's hand gripped his shoulder, halting his movement from the cafe. He growled from deep within as Glazastov winked at them and jumped into the car driving away casually as if to mock them.

**HLHLHLHLHL**

Clarice awoke to a loud thumping of base in her ears. She realized it wasn't the cause of music but her own heart. The second thing she noticed was the cloth bag over her head, the rope bound at her wrists behind her back and the last observation was that of a rotten smelling mattress under her. Thankfully the cloth bag help provide a make shift shield against the odorous bed. Clarice attempted to speak but halted when a burning sensation filled her lungs. Coughing hurt but she had no control over it as she continued the horrible hacking, losing precious oxygen and on the verge of passing out once again.

A firm grip bruised her arm as someone hauled her to her feet, they denied to work, feeling numb and tingling. She started to fall backwards, in complete fear of hitting or landing on whatever was behind her. Clarice landed in a wooden chair, her fractured finger crushed between her hips and the back of the chair. The pain radiated up through her arm and across her shoulder; still unable to breathe let alone scream in agony.

The cloth bag whipped off her face and for a moment she was relieved to feel the cool, fresher then moldy mattress air, greet her face and lungs. Her lungs burned less and the coughing spell concluded, she looked up to meet eyes of Nikolai again.

"Let's have a little chat, shall we Miss Starling?"

_Shit! Don't talk girl, it always gets you into trouble. _An evil smile spread wide across his lips. He crossed his legs and sat back in his chair.

"I must apologize for your accommodation; however we can't have anybody discovering you down here; that would ruin everything. I've been waiting 16 years for this moment; I'm not going to let you or your fucking boyfriend ruin that for me. You can promise me that, can't you sweetheart?"

His hand stroked her cheek, running down to her neck. Starling kept her head held high, her eyes never leaving his own.

"Maybe I should just eliminate the Doctor, hmm? If he's out of the picture she's bound to come back…"

"Don't you dare fucking touch him. You bastard!"

Glazastov tutted.

"Oh, Miss Starling, such vulgar language. Gospoda, vymytʹ yee rot."

He spoke into the darkness of the room and two large; clichéd mobsters swaggered over to her and lifted her from the chair with ease. Dragging her towards a large sink, Nikolai had already turned on the icy water and it began to fill the basin. The men placed her in front of it before forcing her head down into the water.

"She's trying to hold her breath, polkovnik." The older of the two informed him.

Glazastov bowed his head, whistling cheerfully as he walked behind Starling. He drove his fist into her liver, causing her to scream in pain, her head still under the water. He motioned for the guards to pull her head back up. She gasped raggedly, trying to catch every breath of air she could.

"One more hour of this, Detective Starling and you'll finally start to be a good girl, hmm?"

He half smiled before walking out the room, whistling _Ja, das ist meine Melodie_. Clarice went to scream as they forced her head back under the water.

**HLHLHLHL**


	16. Chapter 15

**Only two days till Christmas... I hope everybody's getting ready :) Right this should be my last chapter until after Christmas... I hope you guys like it. **

Gladwin sighed as she hauled case after case of files over to her old desk. She had always hated her office in the Bendlerblock. Only a small part of the Bendlerblock was still used as military offices, the rest was a memorial to those who were executed on the 20th July 1944.

She slammed the final box of case files onto her desk, taking the small dagger that lay in the drawer she slit open the confidential box marked _Glazastov, Nikolai. _

She opened the first file and was met with a picture of his cultured, handsome face. His blonde hair slicked back, his KGB uniform defining his muscles in the best way possible. Gladwin felt her knees go weak just at the sight of his face and immediately sat down in the chair behind her desk. She had completed the first box only half an hour ago and most of its contents were scattered over the coffee table in front of the fireplace. The floor was covered with building plans and blueprints from all over Berlin.

Gladwin began to flip through the file, deliberately skipping his transcript of the events of 30th October. That was not something she wished to read. As she began to read her assistant, Feldwebel Erich Reiche, entered the room. She looked up at him and he clicked the heels of his boots and bowed his head before speaking.

"Oberst, there is a Doctor Wächter to see you."

"Ah, natürlich, show him in please, Erich."

The Feldwebel nodded before exiting the room. Moments later the double doors swung open and Lecter walked in, elegantly making his way through the sea of maps, blueprints and floor plans.

"Hollie, have you found her yet?"

"No, if I had done, do you think I would still be sitting in this damn office?"

"Now, now Hollie, there's no need to start being rude."

"Why the fuck not? I don't see you helping me! It's been three days, three days of me sitting here, phoning people for information, looking through files, running half way round fucking Berlin to get information only to find the informant dead. When you start helping you can tell me to stop being rude."

"What do you think I've been doing then, Hollie? Hmm? If I could help I would but I don't think the chief of police would look kindly upon a serial killer working on a case, or even said serial killer being in his city, do you?"

"Ha! Wolf wouldn't care… the Government might, but not Wolf. Oh… if you want to help though you could analyse this file for me, although Nikolai is a very hard man to keep tabs on I had a friend in the Russian mafia a few years back who kept an eye on him for me."

He nodded and took the file from her desk. His eyes shot to hers when the phone began to ring, his eyes gleaming with some small amount of hope.

"Hallo? Ah, hallo Hubert… wie gehts? Gut, gut. You can fix my car. Splendid, I owe you one Hubert. Ja, ich liebe dich, auch. Tschüss."

"What's wrong with your car?"

"Clarice left it in the middle of Berlin and it was stolen and driven into the fucking Spree! I had to ask Gruber from the engineers' corps to see what he could do for me. Now, let's get on with this, if we don't get her back soon she may never be the same again."

**HLHLHLHLHL**

Starling whimpered as she awoke strapped into the uncomfortable plastic chair. She had been in this room three days and couldn't fathom out how Gladwin had fallen in love with such a monster as Nikolai. She winced as a bright lamp was shone into her face and she moved her head away from the offensive light. She felt large hands take told of her head and they forced her to look into the light.

"Now, Detective, what do you know about me?" Starling kept her head held high and her voice level as she replied.

"I don't know anything about you… I don't even know who you are…"

Nikolai tutted.

"Now, we mustn't lie, it's rude and you remember what happened the last time you were rude to me, hmm? So I'll ask again, what do you know about me?"

Starling squeezed her eyes shut. Nikolai's perfectly manicured hand slapped her harshly across the cheek, his nails cutting into her skin and he grasped the collar of her tee-shirt, pulling her towards him.

"What do you know about me!" He hissed into her face. "Fine, maybe I'll just have to send Ratov out to collect your darling Doctor, hmm?"

"No! Please, don't touch him…" He let go of her, pushing her back into the chair and sighing deeply.

"You're not co-operating with me, why should I collaborate with you? Ratov!"

"No… no call him off, please. I'll… I'll tell you anything."

Glazastov smiled wickedly. In the end he always got what he wanted.

**HLHLHLHLHL**

"Hannibal?"

His head shot up from the white board that had all their musings and profile on.

"Here, this building… it was vacant for years then a few years ago it was sold and completely re-furbished. The neighbours had complained about all the noise and the renovations that had been happening. It's in the Charlottenburg district; it's defiantly his type of place to live. It is at the high end of real estate after all. It also has some great bars and that's what's important to him… to survive and blend in he must socialize and become one of the community."

"It's the only lead we have. We may as well try it."

"Agreed, it'll take ten minutes by car."

Hannibal dropped the whiteboard pen and picked up his suit jacket from the side,

"Hollie, are you coming?"

Hollie went behind her desk, opening the lower drawer and pulling out a Makarov pistol.

"Hannibal, if Nikolai is there then you're not going into that house armed only with a harpy. Here take my Walther."

She handed it over to him and he gingerly accepted.

"Thank you." She nodded quickly before walking out the door; Hannibal followed walking at Hollie's inhumanly quick walking speed.

"If we go now, we'll be there in ten minutes…"

**HLHLHLHLHL**

"You know, Miss Starling, I should thank you really. Without you I wouldn't have gotten the chance to put this plan into action… of course, I never considered you being here…"

Starling twisted her head to face him, a mixture of sweat and blood dripped down the side of her face.

"How? That makes no sense… I don't even know you, how could I have helped…"

"She blames you for her husband's death, because of your iron morals you couldn't let Hannibal go could you? When she found out that your morals forced him to cut off his hand, this broke some more of her faith in humanity, nobleness and morals. Making her all the more susceptible to my charms, Hollie made the wrong choice 16 years ago, it's time for me to finally correct that."

"Wait! You're keeping me down here so that you can get revenge on her or some shit like that! I have nothing to do with it, just let me go for Christ's sake. If you wanted to torture her…"

His eyes darkened and his hand shot to Starling's throat, pulling her from the chair with great force and slamming her into the stone wall.

"Don't you ever imply that I would hurt her like that, if I had wanted to torture her I would have done that many years ago…"

"But… but what you did to her arm?"

"What I did to her arm was a… a crime of passion and a crime of morals and duty… just like you did to your pet Cannibal."

"Leave what I did to Hannibal out of this you prick!"

Nikolai's grip tightened around her throat, his thumb pressing into her jugular vein. Her eyes began to bulge slightly; her gasps reminded him of a fish out of water. He let go of her and she slumped to the floor, wheezing. He kicked her in the face, a spattering of blood making its way onto his perfectly polished wing tips.

"I told you not to be rude." He exited the basement quickly, closing the door behind him and sliding the lock shut.

Nikolai sat at the coffee table and rubbed his eyes. _I hope she can figure this out soon. This damn American is just rude; I don't know what Herr Lecter sees in her. Oh, Hollie, why couldn't you have listened to your heart that night, I gave you the chance… why didn't you take it? Look back at your life, forever being the better person, forever having to help everyone else! This isn't what you deserve. When you come I'll show you how you should have always been treated, kleine Scharfschütze._

**HLHLHLHLHL**

Ten minutes later the pair stood outside a large, gothic-Germanic style building. Gladwin sighed, removing her military IDs from her inner tunic pocket and motioned for Hannibal to ring the bell. They stood outside for only a few minutes before an elder man, with deep black hair and glassy blue eyes. He wore a beautifully cut black three piece suit with a white wing-tip collar shirt and black tie.

"Good evening, can I help you?"

"Good evening, I have authorization to search this house. I would be very appreciative if you would co-operate with us."

"What gives you the authorization to do so, madam?"

Gladwin handed over the identifications to him; one included a fake identity for Hannibal.

"Of course, Colonel Gladwin, Lieutenant-Colonel Wächter, come in."

He replied after looking over the identifications extensively and handing them back. He opened the door for the pair to enter.

Gladwin scanned the living room and saw nothing of interest. Hannibal had walked towards the kitchen and was grabbed from behind by a larger, bulkier man. Gladwin spun round at the noise and raised her gun, a quick double tap sending the man to his ultimate fate.

"Well this is obviously the right place."

Hollie gave a sarcastic smile before throwing Hannibal yet another pistol, her Steyr M1912.

"Keep that out and shoot what-ever moves." Lecter nodded his understanding and followed Hollie through the house, the butler had disappeared. They moved through the bottom floor, opening the first door they saw. It was the living room.

"It's clear, H, move on." They turned and continued to clear out the ground floor of the house. They moved towards the library. Gladwin went to open the door but Lecter stopped her, putting a finger to his lips and positioning her behind him, he withdrew the trusty Walter from the back of his pants and gently turned the knob on the door. The pair silently entered the library, crouching so as not to be seen by the two clichéd mobsters.

"H, you take the right." He nodded and took cover behind the dark green chesterfield sofa. Hannibal watched Hollie intently as she calmed her pulse, her eyes half closed, her hand reaching for the Makarov at her hip. She opened them and nodded at him, her gun instinctively trained onto the man on the left, she held her breath and squeezed the trigger, shooting him directly between the eyes as Hannibal took down the younger one on the left. Hollie stood and walked over to the bodies, the younger ones shirt was open and she could see the distinctive Russian Mafia tattoos covering his body. _He was so young…_

Hannibal pulled her away from her thoughts,

"We should continue moving, my dear."

"Of course, we'll do the basement first."

He nodded following her into the kitchen and towards the steel iron door that - according to the house's blueprints - would lead them into the cellar.

"Right, H, you ready?"

"Always."

Hollie forcefully pulled the door open and they made their way down the stone steps. She cursed as she lost her footing and tripped down the last few steps. Hannibal caught her arm, pulling her towards his body. She instantly melted into it; the reaction instinctive even after so many years away from him. _Oh, come on girl. This isn't the place and he's not yours anymore. _She nodded her thanks and cautiously stepped away from him, making her way into the darkness.

Her hands fumbled along the wall, searching for the light switch. She found it and flipped it on. She gasped when her eyes adjusted to the light and she saw Clarice's bloodied form. Her face and clothing covered in a mixture of blood and sweat. The way she favoured her left side, indicating some form of injury to her right leg most likely a fractured tibia. Gladwin and Lecter diagnosed Starling in minutes, their medical training never leaving them. Hollie's gun instantly trained on Nikolai who was holding Clarice from behind, his pistol pressed firmly to her temple.

"Good evening, Hollie. How lovely for you to drop by after all these years."

He smiled at her; it was so charming that it made her feel weak at the knees and a desire flood her system when he winked at her. Hannibal, on the other hand, was fuming with anger and he pointed the gun at Nikolai.

"Let her go."

"Ah, doctor Lecter I presume. After all these years we finally meet, I'm afraid that I can't give your little Starling back just yet… Not with all these guns trained on me, especially my own Makarov. Hollie, I'm touched you kept that all this time."

"Nikolai, please… let her go, if you…"

"Hollie, don't you say if I love you I'll let her go. You know that won't work, it's a cheap trick and you know I hate cheap things."

Starling began to become frustrated by this entire scenario.

"Just shoot him! Somebody just fucking shoot him!"

Nikolai pressed the gun harder into her temple, causing Starling to wince in pain.

"Take me." He looked up from Starling. "Nikolai, if… if I give myself freely to you, you must promise me that you will let her go and leave her and Hannibal alone."

"Tolʹko yesli vy ostanetesʹ so mnoĭ, i obeshchanie ne pytatʹsya ubezhatʹ."

Gladwin stood looking at him for only a moment before nodding and placing the Makarov on the floor, sliding it over to Nikolai, he let go of Starling.

"Starling, Hannibal, leave now! I'm telling you now, don't phone the authorities, I'm being serious Starling. Now, Go!"

"Hollie?"

"Go! This is my battle; you should have never got involved… I'm… I'm so sorry."

She walked over to Nikolai as the couple began to run back up the stairs and into the safety of the outside world, away from Nikolai. Gladwin went to him and he took her hand, kissing it before leading her up the stairs and out of the damp, deathly basement.

**See you after Christmas guys, have a great day with all your families and loved ones :) Thoughts go out to LH for Christmas, have a lovely day.**

**Oh and a note on Nikolai's Russian: he says, Only if you promise to stay with me and not try to escape...  
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	17. A notice to all my readers and friends

**Okay… So due to some re-thinking, I've decided to re-write the ending… Sorry but to be honest LH was correct it was very abrupt and I could do with adding in some more things and tweaking bits of it. Therefore I have taken off said ''Final Chapter'' and am in the process of re-writing… Sorry, guys but you're just going to have to wait for me to get my act together :/ **

**I hope you all had a great Christmas and Happy New year to all of you if I don't update by then. Thanks for sticking with this people… I really appreciate it. **


	18. Chapter 16

**Hey, guys. Right-ho so this is the first bit of the re-write of what was my ''final chapter'' I'll update when possible… this chapter's dedicated to LH who is always there to help me. Thank you, LH! **

**I also want to say thanks to Grymmarie Thanks for helping me get rid of the writer's block… HAPPY NEW YEAR! **

Clarice stumbled and limped as they both hastily made their way from the house. Hannibal put an arm around her shoulders, supporting her weight. She stumbled again, swearing and grimacing as the pain shot through her body. Lecter stopped their movement and bent down to lift her into his arms, her own automatically linking around his neck.

"Clarice, I'm sorry..."

She looked up at him, her face bloodied and bruised but her eyes soft and clear, she slowly nodded her understanding.

"It… it was my fault. I shouldn't have followed the two of you. I was… I was just so pissed off with Gladwin, the amount of stuff she kept hidden from me…"

He lowered her body into the front passenger seat of his car.

"Stay here... please and take this."

He handed her the Steyr and walked away from her form, leaving her completely baffled in the car. He flicked his harpy into his hand as he walked back into the house.

He inhaled deeply, searching for her scent knowing where ever she was _he_ would be. _Upstairs. _He silently made his way up the main stairwell, following her scent into the master bedroom. He quietly pushed the door open to be confronted with the sight of Nikolai holding Hollie's limp form in his arms, blood running down her body. He stood up from his crouched position and made his way up, behind Nikolai. He grabbed Glazastov from behind but he had turned quickly and was now face to face with Lecter. Nikolai pushed against Hannibal throwing him into the wall, Lecter grunted and Glazastov turned his back from him. Hannibal used this moment to act.

Quickly he got to his feet and tackled the Russian to the ground, his harpy primed over Glazastov's throat. He smiled wickedly before trailing it down his neck, it whispered over his collarbone before moving down over his sternum and stopped, resting on his abdomen.

"The last man I did this too now looks like Picasso drew him, you know."

Lecter winked at him before dragging the knife down Glazastov's abdomen. He stood, wiping his blade clean and placing it back in his inner pocket.

"Remember this the next time you try harming my girl." He hissed before kicking Nikolai in the face and ribs. He left quickly, leaving Nikolai to die upstairs. He wiped his hands clean of any blood with his handkerchief, knowing it would disturb Clarice.

He returned to the car and gently placed the seatbelt over her body. She winced again as it tightened. A look of pain and sadness flashed through his eyes as he saw her pain. He quickly closed the passenger side door and made his way round to the driver's side before quickly pulling away from the sidewalk and into the main road. He drove quickly back to his own house.

**HLHLHLHLHL**

Starling ran into Hannibal's abode as soon as he had opened the door, picking up the phone and dialling 110 and waiting for the other end of the receiver.

"Hallo, Berliner Polizei. Was ist Ihre Notfall?"

"Erm… I need to talk to… fuck what was it Gladwin called him? Wolf? I need to talk to Wolfgang Pagel immediately. It's urgent."

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"What is your name?"

"Starling, Clarice Starling."

"One moment please." She heard some indistinct murmuring on the other end of the line and looked over to Hannibal who was watching her attentively.

"Hello, Detective Starling, what is your problem? I've just been called out of a very important…"

"Gladwin's been taken!"

"What! By whom?"

"Nikolai… Nikolai Glazastov took her…." Starling was on the verge of tears but held it together.

"Why! How did he get anywhere near her?"

"I… I don't know, please I need you to find her. Last I know she went to a house in the Charlotten district."

"Okay, Miss Starling are you safe? Do you have anybody with you?"

"Yes… I'm fine, thank you. I just need you to look for her."

"Of course, don't worry Detective, we will find her, we take care of our own after all."

"Thank you." With that Starling quickly put the phone down, she looked over to Lecter and gave a weak smile before leaning against the sideboard. Lecter was at her side immediately,

"Clarice, you have to sit down. I need to assess the extent of your injuries." He gently began to examine her form, lightly pressing on her ribcage, pulling out a small flash light and checking her pupils. He sat her down on a bar stool in the kitchen and knelt down in front of her lifting her right leg and pulling the trouser leg up. He smoothly ran his hands down her shin bone, every so often applying a small amount of pressure. Clarice savoured the feel of his hands sliding down her leg and she looked down at him, a mixture of steely concentration and worry filled his eyes.

He stood and went over to the sink and began to run the water, warming it as he procured a bowl from the cupboard, then quickly ran out of the kitchen and upstairs to collect a washcloth and some of Clarice's favorite almond soap, that he had brought for her the last time he was in Florence. He filled the bowl with the now hot water and placed the soap into the water. Bringing it over to Clarice he couldn't help but admire the way the moonlight shone through the kitchen windows onto her face and hair and he gently smiled to himself. He placed the washcloth in the water and, after gently placing a hand on her cheek, he began to wipe away the blood, sweat and tears that blemished her face. She winced and tried to pull away suddenly when the cloth wiped over the cuts in her cheek, when he had finished he passed her a hand towel that he had also collected from the bathroom. He sighed deeply,

"Clarice, I'm afraid that you have a fractured rib and your right tibia has been badly bruised. The cuts on your face are deep, however not as such that you would need sutures. If you would like…"

"Hannibal, could… could I stay here with you?"

He gave her a loving smile and nodded,

"You are always welcome in my house, dear Clarice." She looked at him, seeing the love and loyalty for her in his eyes as he looked over her injuries she felt tears threatening to escape again, welling up in her eyes, she could see her vision already beginning to blur.

"Shhh, Clarice, there's no need to cry now... you're safe…" He went to her and tightly wound his arms around her sobbing form, one hand stroking her back while the other smoothed her hair. He rested his chin on the top of her head and held her close to him, gently whispering to her.

He held her for most of the night, until she fallen asleep; when he had lifter her body into his arms and carried her to the master bedroom, changing her clothing and slipping her limp body beneath the covers. He took his place in a chair to the side of the bed, forever watching over his little Starling, his Clarice.

**HLHLHLHL**

_Starling walked through the deserted house, her footsteps creaking on the old, dusty floorboards. It was dark and smelt of dampness. She opened the first door to her left and looked inside; she froze when she saw Gladwin being plunged under the water like she had been but this time it was Glazastov forcing her head into the water not the two thugs... Clarice felt her own lungs constricting once more and quickly closed the door to that room._

_She moved on down the corridor until she came to a large grand-staircase, she ran her hand over the dusty wood, wiping away some of the dust to reveal gold laced mahogany banisters. She continued to make her way up the stairs until she came to a door, the only door in the house to be left ajar. She pushed it fully open and looked inside. She saw Hannibal laid out on the bed, his body facing the door but his mind engrossed in a copy of Jeder Stirbt f__ü__r Sich Allein. _

_She stepped into the room and he quickly looked up and smiled warmly at her, placing the book down and sitting up. She looked over his body, his shirt hung open and his trousers hung loosely around his waist, his belt having been discarded on the floor next to the wardrobe. She couldn't help it; some greater power dragged her towards him and the bed. She sat down next to him and he cupped her cheek, leaning in and placing a fleeting kiss on her lips. She felt her eyes half-close as she leant towards him and captured his sweet lips in another kiss._

_She could still hear the screams from downstairs and Lecter broke their kiss to close the door. As the door clicked shut she automatically forgot about Nikolai and Hollie and focused entirely on Hannibal and herself. He walked back over to her and sat back down next to her. She raised a hand to his face and brushed her fingers along his cheekbone before resting her hand at the back of his neck and gently stroking the hair. She pulled his head down towards her own and began to kiss him again. He pushed her backward onto her back, covering her body with his own. _

_He nipped at her bottom lip and began to trail hot kisses along her jawline and up towards her ear. He began to whisper to her in Italian and she felt her eyes close and her breathing quicken as he kissed down her jugular vein. His hands moved to undo her shirt buttons and pull the offending garment from her body. He continued to kiss her body, down through the valley between her breasts and he moved towards her erect nipple. _

"_Clarice?" The words broke her vision and she felt everything slipping away from her. _

**HLHLHLHL **

"Clarice… Clarice, I'm so sorry to wake you but we must get moving."

She looked up at Hannibal who was gently shaking her body to wake her. Her hand lazily moved to the nape of his neck and he stood stock still, wondering what she was about to do, she gently stroked the hair there before pulling him down and claiming his lips for her own. Tasting him and violently nipping at his lips, a bittersweet punishment for waking her up from her dream.

He moaned into her mouth and passionately began to kiss her back. _Hannibal! The authorities are coming and all you can do is lay here and make-out with her! Get your priorities straight! There will be time for this if and when you get away from this place. _He regrettably broke the kiss and straightened up, offering her his hand.

"I'm sorry to rush you Clarice but we must move from this house. I have packed everything and have put some fresh clothes out for you to change into. Please hurry, my dear, time is of the essence."

She stood and quickly changed into the fresh underwear, cream coloured chinos and the cable knit sweater. Not even waiting for him to exit the room, however Hannibal Lecter, forever being the gentlemen, did not linger and continued out of the room and downstairs where he waited patiently for Clarice.

She was down in minutes, dressed and ready to leave with him. He found it surprising that she came with him so willingly but wasn't about to analyse one of the best things that could happen to him. They left the house and entered his supercharged jaguar, quickly driving away from the house and away from their old lives.

**HLHLHLHL**

"Hannibal, where are we going?" He took his eyes off the road momentarily to look at her.

"For now, I have a residence in a small town called Hückeswagen; it takes just over five hours to get there. However I assure you it is a lovely town. Now, I suggest you try and catch some sleep, hmm?"

"H, why are we doing this?"

"Because… because I don't want them to arrest you… to arrest us. They figured out who I was and I can't let them catch us. Clarice, it's taken us so long to get to this point, I will not let anything or anyone ruin that."

"But how could they have found out?"

"I don't know… how does anybody ever find out? Because they become too observant and notice me? Clarice I truly could not tell you… May I ask you a question, Clarice?"

"Yes?"

"What were you dreaming about?" Clarice blushed slightly.

"W…well, erm… nothing really."

"Oh, Clarice, don't start lying… it must have been a very _pleasant _dream for you to wake up the way you did, though I'm not complaining about that." Clarice sighed.

"I really couldn't tell you… one minute I saw Nikolai and Hollie the next I was in the bedroom with…."

Hannibal deviated his eyes from the road once more, they sparkled with delight.

"Go on…"

"I was in the bedroom with you… we were…."

"Yes, Clarice… please, enlighten me to what your delicious mind seems to have conjured up."

"We were making out, okay?"

"Mhm, is that as far as we got Clarice?" She blushed again, her cheeks going an even deeper shade of red.

"Well, you woke me up so I have no idea how far it would have gone."

"Ah, such a shame… well, Clarice, if you sleep it may all come back to you, hmm? I'll wake you up when we get there."

Clarice lent her head against the cool glass of the passenger seat window and closed her eyes, allowing sleep to overtake her.

Five hours later, Lecter drove through the small, picturesque town of Hückeswagen. He smiled as he drove up the drive and parked his car, turning to look at Clarice for a moment. _She looks so beautiful when she sleeps, almost more than when she is awake. _Lecter studied every line, every mark on her face before quickly exiting the car and walking around to the passenger's side, unbuckling Clarice's seatbelt and carrying her into the large, traditional house.

He placed her gently on the sofa and went back outside to collect their belongings. Once he had put everything away and in its correct place he went back downstairs to watch over Clarice. As he entered the living room she began to stir, rolling over onto her broken ribs she woke suddenly in pain and Lecter rushed to her side.

"Clarice, I'm going to need to do something about those broken ribs now… I've left your medical needs unattended for too long."

"Hannibal, I'm…" She winced. "I'm fine."

"No, you are most certainly not, now…"

He walked swiftly into the kitchen and came back into the living room with a glass of water and a black medical bag; he opened it and removed a roll of ace bandage and a small bottle of naproxen.

"Clarice, dear, I'm going to need you to stand up for me."

He extended his hand for her and she took it as he helped her from the sofa into a standing position. His hands went to the bottom of her sweater and he began to gently lift it over her head, she raised her arms to make it easier for him. Once the sweater was removed, Lecter went behind her before saying,

"Clarice, I'll need you to remove your bra, if you wish I can place the bandage on from behind you?"

Her arm reached behind her back and she undid the clasp of her bra, removing it from her body and freeing her breasts.

"C… can ya' do it from behind, please…"

Hannibal stayed behind her and reached around her body, starting the wrap just above her diaphragm, on the line of her Xiphoid and her 6th rib, he continued to wrap over the fifth and fourth ribs, stopping just below the curve of her breasts. He cut the bandage and tucked the lose end into the wrap. He rested her back onto the sofa and handed her back her bra and sweater. He turned his attention to the bottle of naproxen while she put her clothing back on, mindlessly reading the chemical structure and side-effects of the drug to give her some privacy. When she had put her clothing back on he turned to her and twisted the top off of the small brown bottle, sliding two of the peach coloured, oblong tablets onto his hand. He held them out for Clarice; she took them, eyeing them suspiciously.

"Naproxen, my dear, it's safer than ibuprofen and will stop your ribs from becoming inflamed and help with the pain." He handed her the glass of water and she took both pills together with the water in one gulp.

"I'm afraid I cannot do much about your bruised bone, Clarice. The only thing I can suggest is the anti-inflammatory drugs, – which you're already on - a lot of rest and I can get some ice for you to put on it if you wish."

"I fine for now, thank you… I might just sleep for a bit longer."

"Of course, Clarice, would you like me to prepare a bed for you upstairs?"

"I'm…I'm okay for now…" She yawned deeply. "I think I'll just stay down here for now."

He bowed his head, "As you wish." He sat down on the armchair opposite her and watched her fall asleep, when he was certain she had fallen into a peaceful abyss he stood and walked over to the airing cupboard, taking out a deep red, cotton throw and gently placing it over Clarice's body before writing her a quick note and grabbing his overcoat before walking out into the town to collect some groceries.

Starling awoke; shivering in the cold house she pulled the blanket tighter around her. She looked around the room for Hannibal and felt a twang of disappointment that he was not in the house. She sat up, wincing as a pain shot through her side and looked around the living room, it was - as she had expected – nothing short of grand, there was a Persian rug beneath her feet and the traditional fireplace was made of white marble with gold lining the edges. On the mantelpiece she noticed a folded cream piece of paper. She gingerly stood up and walked over to it, picking it up she unfolded the expensive paper and began to read.

_My dearest Clarice, _

_First of all allow me to apologize for the state of my handwriting; I was in a rush after all. Secondly, I must apologize for leaving you alone; however we did need some supplies, therefore I have gone into town to get food and other things we may need. Please, feel free to look around the house. If you're cold, which no doubt by the time you read this you will be, you are welcome to light a fire or turn the heating up; the thermostat is on the wall left of the front door. I promise, I will be back shortly. _

_Forever yours, _

_Hannibal Lecter. _

Clarice smiled at the note before folding it again and placing it in her pocket. She walked through the living room and into the foyer, finding the thermostat she turned the heating up and began to explore the house. Starling walked in to a large kitchen the floor beneath her feet warm to the touch. A large island sat in the middle of the floor plan. It had a high tech 6 burner system. The cabinets lined the wall in a dark cherry wood with frosted glass panels. The fridge was also high end looking with its chrome finish. She smiled, knowing the kitchen would probably be his favorite place in the entire house. She moved though into a large library, books lined every wall in mahogany bookcases. In the centre of the room sat a Steinway and sons grand piano. Clarice made her way over to the piano, letting her fingers gracefully linger over the ivory bars. A tall curtain fluttered open, catching her eye. She walked over to inspect it, finding French doors leading to an outdoor patio. White roses and lilacs surrounded the area, crawling along the pavilion creating an alcove of flowers. The full moon illuminated the flowers beauty. A chill of wind hits her; she closes the door and makes her way to the next room. She slowly ascended the stairs, holding her fractured rib to try and halt the pain. She looked down the long corridor, choosing to take the door right at the end. The door to the master bedroom.

As soon as she opened the door she could smell him, Clarice closed her eyes and didn't move. She could almost feel him near her just by the sent. she drew in a long, slow breathe holding the air in her lungs, letting her body adjust to the pain of her ribcage just to take him in. after exhaling she contemplated whether or not she should cross the threshold. This was his room, where he closed his eyes and left the world behind. It almost felt sacred to her. She looked over the bed, the comforter looked lush and the sheets below looked like they could be made from silk, they probably were_. I bet it would feel wonderful to slip into every night._ A thought crossed her mind _Does he sleep naked?_ She blushed, biting her lip. She walked over to the bed, running a hand over the crimson sheets as she walked around the bed. She had the sudden impulse to slip beneath the sheets. She pulled her socks off and then her jumper and slid under the silk sheets, resting her head on one of the four pillows on her side of the bed. She rolled over to what she expected was his side of the bed and rested her head on his pillow, deeply inhaling his scent. _I wonder what it would be like to have him here next to me... in this bed..._

"Clarice?"

She saw his figure silhouetted against the doorframe. He had watched her open his door and waited, he watched her breathe him in and he smiled, he watched her enter his room and he followed, he watched her partially undress and he wanted more, he watched her slip into bed and he wanted to be there with her, he watched her inhale his scent on his pillow and he nearly lost control. The look in her eyes when he called her name was not shock, it was primal. Half her face still buried in his pillow, her blue eyes darkened by the enlarged pupils. Her skin radiant in the moonlight. Clarice pushed herself up; looming over his pillow like it was a recent kill. She looked like an animal to him.

Hannibal's foot inched forward and he slowly entered the room, walking towards her as if she were a deer that would run away if he moved too quickly. He reached the foot of the bed, watching her watch him. She slowly began to move from her position but the look in his eyes kept her still. He kicked his shoes off silently, before resting one knee on the bed and leaning over her body, his eyes linked with hers.

Hannibal spoke very quietly, "There is a look in your eyes Clarice that I have seen only in my dreams."

He reached under her body, leading her to rest on her back. As she slowly reclined she took a very deep breath and spoke softly, "What…what look?"

Hannibal brushed the hair back from her face and whispered in her ear, "Desire, Clarice. You look at me as if you want to devour me and I will admit to you that I find the prospect both terrifying and exhilarating."

Hannibal very gently lowered himself beside her. Clarice settled against him, adjusting her body slightly to mold herself against his frame. She was breathless from the contact and steadied her respirations before she responded, "I'm not terrifying."

Hannibal pulled Clarice gently by the shoulder to face him fully. He leaned in as if to kiss her but stopped just shy of it and nuzzled his nose very gently along her cheek. He whispered in her ear, "Yes, you are Clarice. You have the ability to devastate me with a glance."

Clarice reached a tentative hand and cupped his cheek, brushing her fingertips along his jawline. She spoke in a whisper, "Hannibal, I'm not sure…"

Hannibal continued his attentions placing gentle kisses along her cheek. His voice lusty, it deepened as he spoke, "Not sure of what, Clarice?"

Although they were alone she continued to whisper as if not wanting to be overheard, "I'm not sure if we should."

His tone flirtatious, Hannibal teased as he continued to trail kisses down her neck and across her collarbone,

"Should? Should what? You entered my bed, Clarice. It isn't as if I dragged you here. This was your choice. I am merely accepting what I perceive to be your invitation."

Clarice was embarrassed and seemed almost apologetic, "I know…I was just curious. I wanted to feel what it would be like to sleep with you."

Hannibal traced his thumb across her lips. "I am equally curious though I am content to sleep with you if that is what you desire, I would prefer to make love to you. While you are deciding, may I kiss you?"

_A kiss is harmless…I can kiss him…_

Clarice lifted her face to his; the closing of her eyes gave him his answer.

"Clarice…my Clarice…" he whispered her name as he very gently reached for her and pulled her close to him.

His lips touched her very briefly, barely grazing hers. He paused for her reaction. Her eyes remained closed her lips separated slightly in anticipation. Hannibal smiled and moved toward her once more. This kiss was more deliberate, more pressing as his lips sought hers. As his tongue slipped across the separation gently moving between her lips a very soft sound escaped Clarice. This whisper of want caused Hannibal to groan his own need as he deepened the kiss, opening his mouth to hers.

Hannibal spoke softly, encouraging her to accept him, "Clarice…you want me as much as I want you. I can taste it on you."

She spoke against his lips, not wanting to move from him, "I never said I didn't." Clarice reached for him, draping her arms around his neck and very gently pulled him to her. "I do want you. I just don't know if I'm going to be enough for you. You might get…bored with me."

"You are more than enough for me, Clarice. You are the only woman I can honestly say I will never find boring as you are a constant surprise to me." Hannibal searched her lips with his, drawing them in, tasting them. He reached his hands around her body pressing her against him. His want was unavoidable. "I need your answer, Clarice. There are limits to my self-control. I must know my boundaries or very soon, I will act as if I have none."

His passion building with hers, Hannibal moved his hands up and down her body, memorizing the line of her form, the curves of her muscles, and the beat of her heart matching his. He began to tease her throat with his teeth. "I will need your answer, Clarice…soon."

Clarice was becoming overwhelmed by his passion. She listened to the sounds he made as he leaned into her, growling his desire as their bodies melded. He continued to kiss her lips, her throat, trailing his mouth and tongue toward her breasts. He tasted all within reach, all attended to equally as her heart rate soared.

"Clarice…I need your answer. Do you want this? Do you want me?"

Her want overruling reason she grasped at his shoulders and encouraged her lover, "I want you…oh god, Hannibal...but..."

Breathless, he spoke his need to her, "But nothing….Let me love you, Clarice."

She could feel the heat of his passion build with her own and was having trouble focusing on anything other than Hannibal's body against hers. All of the curiosity and all of the sexual tension between them was building as they came together, their hearts pounding in unison as they explored each other's bodies.

Hannibal began to remove her clothing with the same speed and determination that she removed his. Soon their limbs were intertwined, their bodies pressed tightly together as they tasted of one another.

Hannibal could hold himself back no longer and soon arrived at the point of no return. He spoke his passion softly so as not to threaten or overpower, "We have gone beyond ourselves, Clarice. If you do not wish this tell me to leave and I will allow you this room. I will sleep elsewhere, but the choice must be yours. I haven't the strength to walk away on my own. We must stop now or we will very soon be one."

"Hannibal, we have been one…we are one."

"You must be certain. I will not leave you…ever."

Hannibal held his breath as she spoke the words he so longed to hear.

"Stay…Please stay."

Hannibal Lecter gathered Clarice in his arms and spent the rest of the night proving his love to her. They shared their bodies as well as their hopes for the future. Coming together several times that night, Hannibal Lecter opened his heart to the woman he loved as she opened her life to him.

**HLHLHLHL **

******Okie-dokey... I'm off to watch The Rite. I'll write some more when I can and get a new chapter to you... Please read and review... **


	19. Chapter 17

**Hey guys :D First of all, I hope you're all having a good start to the new year. I certainly am... I got my mathematics results and... (Drum roll) I got a B! However I'm re-taking it so that I can obtain an A grade. **

**Anyways, a big welcome back to Taylor who's finally returned from Thailand and hello to LH, Major and Grymm. Hope you all had a great christmas and start to the new year... Anyways, on with the fic? **

Doctor Philip Artois of the Nouvion General Hospital ran quickly through the white-washed corridors. His latest patient had finally woken up after being in a pain induced coma for two days. The doctor picked up the patient's medical notes, flipping through them as he entered the private room. He glanced up to his patient as he spoke,

"Monsieur Krymov, good morning. How are you feeling?" Monsieur Krymov looked up to the doctor, his eyes dark and his light, blonde hair falling over his forehead.

"A little slow, doctor, but I suppose that's the effects of the anaesthesia wearing off."

"Hmm, well you and your wife are both very lucky to be alive. Whoever attacked you was very precise with that cut, I'm afraid to say that if you hadn't gotten here when you did you would have most likely died"

"Wait, docteur, you said my wife was as well… what is wrong with her?" Krymov almost sounded worried.

"Your attacker had used chloroform to subdue your wife. It turns out she's allergic to a chemical called hypochlorite which is one of the main chemicals used in chloroform. She's still recovering and is in the next room."

"Is there anyone with her?" The doctor, who had still not noticed the man in the armchair, nodded.

"I believe your brother was with her."

The larger man who had been sitting in the armchair shifted awkwardly.

"Well, monsieur, I must get back to my rounds. In a few days I believe that you'll be able to leave. If you need anything feel free to call the nurse." Krymov nodded his thanks and after the doctor had left he turned his attention to the larger man.

"Who is with her now, Hugo?"

"Pyotr… Pyotr Rizin. Nikolai, are you sure you're okay?" Nikolai looked over the larger man, his hair a caramel blonde and his eyes a light green. He was the spitting image of their father.

"Yes, thank you for doing this for me, brother. I owe you…" He winced in pain as he tried to sit up before slumping back down into the rigid, carbolic smelling sheets. "I…I want to go see her…"

He attempted to get up again and this time managed to get into a sitting position. Hugo walked swiftly over to him, gently pushing him back into the bed.

"The doctor said you must get some rest, walking about will tear your sutures and you might die. Besides she wasn't happy when she first woke up, do you think that's best?" Nikolai nodded before closing his eyes and resting his weakened body, waiting for _her _to come back to him.

**HLHLHLHL **

Starling sighed contentedly, wrapping her arms tighter around Hannibal's waist. She softly rested her head on his chest, listening to the slow, steady beating of his heart. Looking up at his face she smiled; his hair was messy and fell haphazardly over his forehead. Clarice groaned quietly as she rolled out from underneath the silk sheets and out of the bed. Her ribs began to hurt as she stood up; looking at the side table she saw the bottle of naproxen and smiled. He must have gotten up to get them for her in the middle of the night. She also saw a pitcher of water on the sideboard; she poured herself a glass of water before grabbing the bottle and sliding two pills into her hand and swallowing them down with the water.

She pulled on the first item of clothing she found; his shirt before padding out of the bedroom, trying not to wake the sleeping Hannibal Lecter; she walked downstairs and into the kitchen. She opened the large fridge and took out the loaf of bread, cutting two slices and placing it into the toaster before she frantically began to search the cupboards for peanut butter. She eventually abandoned all hope of finding any and went back to the fridge taking out the butter.

Once the toast had popped up she spread the butter and began to walk around the house again, every so often she nibbled on her toast. She finished off her toast and walked over to the piano, sitting down at the piano stool she began to tinker with the ivory keys. She felt his lips at her neck and smiled to herself. His hands covered hers as he continued to kiss her and he began to move his hands above hers, guiding her own hands to play. The music went through to her very soul, it began slowly played with raw emotion, it was his love in a single song. Everything he felt for her had been melted down and constructed into this beautiful piece of music. She leant her head back, giving him full access to her neck. Starling moaned when he nipped at her carotid and continued to kiss up her neck and over her jawline, his hands continuing to play the melody. His lips met hers in a soft kiss as the music ended.

Clarice looked at him when their lips had finally parted.

"What was that piece called?" He smiled softly at her.

"It was the theme from a movie called Cinema Paradiso, I was forced to see it a few years ago against my will… I must admit the soundtrack was quite lovely."

Clarice smirked at him,

"Maybe I'll go out and rent it." She winked at him. "Torture you all over again."

Hannibal growled, diving his face back into the crook of her neck to nip at her flesh. The sensation sent a shudder through her body. "Okay, okay... you win!"

He hummed a victory growl. "I always do."

"Is that a challenge?" Hannibal raised his eyebrow to her question.

His voice lowered to a husk tone. "Quite possibly, my dear."

Clarice lowered her voice as well. "Challenge accepted. You're gonna be sorry you ever tested me."

"I will relish every ounce of pleasure from this little competition."

"Little? I would not take this lightly, if I was you." Clarice smirked and studied the ever growing grin on his face.

"If you were me, what would you do?" Clarice swallowed hard, the sensual tone in his voice made her heart skip a beat, she thought about her options. She could tease and taunt him with her body; she knew what he wanted but in the end he would win. She instead went her second option.

"I'd challenge me to a game of Texas Hold'em."

"Hmm, but Clarice that hardly seems fair you have no money to bet. However…" His voice trailed off, leaving an insinuation hanging in the small space of air between them. Both her eyebrows shot up.

"OH... I see ... a game of strip poker then?"

"Oh, Clarice I would never imply such a thing." He grinned. "However, if you really insist on such a thing..."

"No…no… it wouldn't be fair; all I'm wearing is your shirt. You're wearing a lot more than me."

"Mhm, may I say you look quite delectable in my shirt."

Lecter's tongue poked out and he licked his lips. Starling leaned in and kissed him once more, he pulled back slightly grinning before kissing her again, his arms wrapping around her shoulders as he pulled her into him. He lifted her from the piano stool, continuing to kiss her as he lifted her onto the top of the piano, she leant back and he kissed down her neck, she moaned as he bit down on her shoulder. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she growled her desire into his mouth. His hands moved down her back and he cupped her arse, pulling her body further into his own, she could feel his arousal growing and sighed quietly; a loving, passionate sigh. His mouth began to work its way down her neck, drifting over her collarbone and down into the valley between her breasts.

"Ahh, Hannibal… Hannibal, I'm sorry but…" He looked up at her, desire clouding his eyes. "My ribs…"

He slowly, sadly removed his body from hers, careful not to put anymore strain on her already fragile ribs. He smoothed his scruffy hair back into its place.

"I'm sorry, Clarice. However, you must learn to avoid putting me in a passion, or I shall really murder you some time."

She smiled at him before motioning for him to help her off of the Piano. He did so and continued to carry her to the couch, resting her down onto it.

"If you keep carrying me everywhere I think I'll lose all ability to walk soon."

He let out a small chuckle before lifting her legs up and sitting on the sofa, placing her legs over his lap. He took her left foot into his hand and gently began to massage it starting at the ball of her foot, his fingers moving down to her heel then whispering over her ankle and started to massage their way up her calf, his fingers lightly digging into her gastrocnemius. She leant her head back onto the arm of the chair, sighing in pleasure as his fingers worked magic over her stressed, over worked muscles. He smiled as he continued his work up to her thigh before moving on to her right leg. This time paying careful attention to her bruised tibia, when he had finished relaxing her he looked over to her, her face completely relaxed.

"Are you comfortable my dear" Hannibal smoothed his hands over her legs.

"Yes, no one has ever made me feel so relaxed. You're really good at it."

"Thank you, Clarice."

"Have you ever done this to anyone else?"

"Hmm, only once... why?"

Clarice raised her head.

"who?"

"Jealous my dear?"

"Yes, I want to know who."

"It was a long time ago, before your time."

"I understand, but I just want to know who she was. Was she special to you? Do you still think about her... like now?"

Hannibal bowed his head, letting out a small sigh. When his eyes met hers once more he gave half a smile.

"Oh, Clarice... she was a dear friend and still is now. I haven't thought about her in a romantic sense ever since she got married; it would have been discourteous of me and I had met you..."

Clarice looked away momentarily both confused and flustered. She squared eyes with him, "How 'romantically' attached were you to her?"

"Clarice, do you know how beautiful you look when you're jealous?"

"You're deflecting."

"Clarice, the love I felt for her was not the same as I feel for you... It was different. We were bound more by our friendship than anything else."

Clarice blushed at the thought of him practically telling her he loved her but she tried not to be flattered out of finding out who the other lucky lady was. In the years she was studying him she knew that we had many conquests but they seemed more like toys to him and in all the interviews they said he felt distant like he was hiding himself. He loved this other woman before, someone she didn't remember seeing an interview with.

"W...What was her name? I never saw - or at least I never picked up on - her in your file."

"hmm." his voice was low as he weighed his options. "I will only tell you because you seem very eager to know about my past, but be sure I will ask you about your past as well my dear."

Clarice nodded in agreement.

"The only other woman I touched like this was Hollie"

"H...Hollie?" was all Clarice could sputter out. "You were romantically involved with Hollie?"

He nodded.

"Yes, however it was only for a short while, she met her husband when I had left to start up my practice in America."

"That's why you were in that photo album..."

It was more to herself then to him. Clarice subconsciously pulled her legs back from him, lost in her thoughts how everything connected, how Hollie had dragged her here, how Hannibal knew to contact her, how they had both managed to work together to save her from that basement, why she had seen those photos of him in the photo album. Hannibal reached for her hand, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"My dear, please don't linger on my past."

"Hannibal, did she... She worked with you to help get me into this damn country for you... everything she had done was for you... for us."

Hannibal nodded, slightly solemn.

"Hollie has done a lot for me. Neither I nor she could think of each other as lovers. She respected the fact that I loved you; she never had to help me... I didn't really need her help but it was a lot easier for you and I to talk when you were away from America, away from the FBI and the American police force. She... she had all the reasons not to help you get out of that house in Berlin and she had all the reasons not to help us become what we are now."

"Why? If she was such a good friend what reason did she have to not help you?" Hannibal mulled over his answer to that question for a moment

"She blamed you for the death of her husband. Not directly, but indirectly."

"How the hell could I have done that?"

"The night I left you at Chesapeake Bay, I called upon Hollie to reattach my hand. That was the night her husband was killed."

He looked down at their linked hands. "She phoned a doctor that had been in the war with her to begin with the reattachment of my hand while she got on the first plane from Berlin to DC and she helped me escape from the US. If she had been with her husband instead of reattaching my hand Hans may have survived. She blamed your iron morals and your sense of duty."

Clarice was both angry and regretful.

"It's not like I knew what was going to happen that night, half way around the world. I think it's her own fault for blaming me." She bit her bottom lip and hung her head. "But I glad she helped you." Clarice rubbed his wrist, "If I could take it all back I would do it in a heartbeat."

"Clarice, do not regret anything... you and I know it wasn't your fault. All that matters is that we are here now, together." He took her hand and placed a lingering kiss on the back of it. Clarice closed her eyes and smiled while he kissed the back of her hand.

"Who is Dr. Pilcher?" Hannibal Lecter asked in his low metallic voice.

"Dr. Pilcher?" Clarice asked surprised.

Hannibal nodded, grinning at her shock and sudden flushed cheeks. "Yes."

"How do you know about him?"

"I don't think 'how' is very important, what is important who he is and was to you. Quid Pro Quo, Clarice."

His tone of voice brought back the sudden feeling of being in the dungeon, his person drawing closer, looming slightly over her.

"He... was just a short lived fling." Hannibal raised an eyebrow, obviously very amused.

"Come; come now Clarice... he must have meant something to you? Not just a fling..."

She looked away feeling the red on her cheeks. "He reminded me of you. Smart, intuitive, dignified... he was funny too but less dangerous."

"Mmm... were you attracted to him?"

"Yes and no. I tried to be, it felt like something was missing."

"Hmm, I suspect it was the danger. Did you let him love you the way I did and continue to do?"

"Did I sleep with him? Yes... but he wasn't something I would compare with you."

"Why did it end, Clarice?"

"He.. he was never as interesting as you. He could hold my attention but not like you." A small smile broke out on her face. "And he continually talked about bugs."

"Ah, an entomologist then?" She nodded.

"Did you meet him while working on the Buffalo Bill case?"

"No, we knew each other before that. He had asked me out several times but once I graduated I gave him a chance."

Hannibal brought her chin up with his index finger "Thank you, Clarice." He whispered a kiss over her lips.

**HLHLHLHL**

The form that lay still under the crisp white sheets stirred. Her eyes opened slowly, the familiar bleeping of a heart-rate monitor met her ears. Her left hand reached over, languidly, and she pulled the morphine drip from her hand. Hugo had awoken when he heard it drop to the floor.

"Hollie, I told you before don't take it out... Nikolai will..."

"I don't care what Nikolai will fucking do..."

Hollie tossed the blankets off herself and attempted to stand before Hugo rushed to her side.

"I don't need your help, I've been through much worse than this, your brother saw to that." He ignored the last comment.

"I'm not here to help you; you need to stay in bed."

"No I… I'm not staying in this fucking hospital. Where's my clothing and where's Nikolai?"

Hugo sighed, rubbing the bridge of his rise with his thumb and forefinger before offering her his arm when she stumbled to the door, almost collapsing to the floor.

"You're clothing is being dry cleaned. We couldn't bring you here in that uniform. As for Nikolai, he's in the next room."

Hollie used his help to get into the next room. Hugo waved at the nurses to go back to their stations. Hollie first noticed all the tubes and wires hooked up to Nikolai. His hair was a mess and she saw the white gauze bandaging peeking out from under his hospital gown. Her heart sank as she gained some strength back to make it to his bed side without additional help from Hugo.

"Nikolai..." She whispered.

_Why is it that whenever it comes to Nikolai fucking Glazastov over 7 years of intense training and 18 years of experience goes out the window! _Hollie shook the thought from her head. Stumbling over to the chair next to his bed she sat down and looked over his face.

"He really does care about you, you know?" Hollie's eyes shot to his.

"If he really bloody loved me… "She sighed and ran a shaking hand over his cheek. "What happened to him?" She looked to Hugo. He just shrugged.

"I'm not sure, I remember him calling me to come pick him up and take bring him here. I found him face down next to the bed where you were. He was holding your hand. There was a lot of blood, too much blood for just him. The doctor's said you had lost a lot of blood"

Gladwin's right hand began to shake; she pulled away from his face. Hugo noticed his face contort slightly when she pulled away and tilted his head to study his brother. Hollie pulled open the drawer that was supposed to be locked. Her right hand still shaking incessantly. Looking through the vials in the drawer she took out the clear liquid and a syringe, measuring just enough of the morphine to stop her hand from shaking, to try and stop the pain she felt. Hollie's body reacted to the morphine, calming the shake and pain to nothing. She reclined back in the chair with a sigh. Hugo watched her; he knew she was an addict before, not from being told but by the signs she exhibited. He'd seen it before and still did in his line of work with his brother. Knowing it wasn't his place to talk to her about it but he noted to remember to talk to Nikolai about her. They were brothers and he knew how much Nikolai loved Hollie.

Hollie sat back up, placing the syringe on top of the medical cabinet. "Hugo, can I please have a moment alone?"

"I'll be right outside the door." Hugo nodded leaving the two alone. Hugo nudged Pyotr Rizin who had fallen asleep in the other chair.

"Prosnisʹ. Nam nuzhna pishcha."

Hugo and Pytor quickly exited the room, leaving the couple alone. Hollie closed her eyes, allowing the morphine to calm her body and mind. She savoured the feeling before her eyes flashed open again and she looked over his body. Where everyone else saw Nikolai Glazastov her morphine fogged mind saw Hans Reinhardt. Her eyes scanned everything, every line, every curve, she took in every detail, it was saved to her subconscious, while her conscious flooded with delusion.

"Hans…"

It was a fleeting whisper as she felt her eyelids begin to feel heavy, her pulse began to slow and her head fell to the pillow. The morphine opened up the vast corners of her mind that had long been barred and barricaded. It opened the door that had always been marked, _Nikolai... mein verbotene Liebe_.

**HLHLHLHL**

The sun fell languidly over the swan pond, reflecting its radiance onto the couple sleeping on the bank, wrapped in a fleece blanket underneath the tall fir tree. It was getting late and soon the couple would have to move from this place. It had been two months since Hannibal had saved Clarice and her physical wounds had finally healed. _How long will it be before you get over the psychological scars, my darling? _He inclined his head slightly, looking down upon her sun-bathed profile he smiled warmly as he stroked her hair. This place was beautiful but it was only the beginning. They had to move on and soon, the authorities were not stupid they would eventually figure out that he was in their country and there was no one to stop them.

She stirred under him. Her face contorting slightly in a mixture of pain and fear; _her wounds are bleeding again. _

**HLHLHLHL**

_Old papers flittered over the concrete flooring. The white washed walls that lead down the corridor where painted with wanted posters, old Tattler headlines and old sepia mug shots. One of bits of paper fluttered over to her, landing at her bare feet. She bent down and picked it up; staring back at her was the headline: __**Clarice Starling, FBI's angel of death found dead! **__She felt her breathing quicken as she scanned the article. The words flashing in front of her; __**Drowned… tortured…. Mafia…. Glazastov…Nikolai…**__ The paper fell from her hand and drifted back to the floor, re-joining its comrades. _

_She felt her legs begin to walk down the corridor. Then suddenly she was running. The corridor seemed endless and just as she thought she could take no more a door appeared. She tried harshly pulling it open but it wouldn't budge. A gust of wind blew down the corridor, almost knocking her off of her feet. She forced herself to stay put before she took her chances and kicked the door. The pleasing sound of the wood splintering hit her ears and she tried a few more times before the door broke away from the lock and the door frame. She ran inside the room, as soon as she had entered the door repaired itself and slammed shut, she heard the lock slide and she was trapped. _

_Looking around she found herself in her old basement office in Quantico. She looked around the familiar setting, her eyes had quickly adjusted to the darkness and she noticed a darkened figure sitting in her chair, his head bowed and his eyes glued to the case file. She stepped forward and the figure didn't move. She walked up to it and Clarice's hand gently took a hold of the form's chin, pulling its head up so she could see his face. _

_She gasped and stepped back when she met the overworked eyes of Jack Crawford. A single tear fell from his eyes and she looked down at what he had been intently staring at. _

_The large dossier was marked: Starling, Clarice. Looking down at the folder she noticed a single picture, marked by Crawford's tear. Picking it up she saw a picture of Hannibal and herself, they lay on the banks of the river Wupper in that small village, a blanket covering their bodies and Hannibal's arm protectively wrapped around her waist. __**He's watching us…**_

_She placed the image back into the frozen Crawford's hand and began to walk tentatively around the room again. This time she noticed something different; a great iron door, like the ones used in submarines, had emerged in the wall. She walked over to it, her hands skimming across the valve door handle before she gripped it tightly and began to turn it, it took a lot of her strength to turn it all the way but she finally managed it and gently pushed the door open. _

_Stepping inside she found herself in an all but empty room- apart from the generic metal desk and the metal swivel chair. The floors were a dull grey, as were the walls. The door once again slammed behind her. She looked back at it, only just noticing the inscription on the door. __**101. **_

_She quickly turned back around and began to search through the room looking for something, anything to help her move on. She looked underneath the desk and found a clumsy, ill-fitting gas mask. She picked it up and sceptically studied it. Flipping it over in the hands, nonchalantly flicking at the panes of glass the protected the eyes. Then, from nowhere, a hissing met her ears. She looked around the dull grey room, it slowly filled with a mysterious fog and she fit the clumsy helmet on just in time. Clarice found herself under a green sea and dim, through the misty glass panes she saw a darkened figure run manically towards her. The white eyes writhing in his face as he plunged at her, guttering, choking, drowning. The blood came gargling from his froth-corrupted lungs. She looked into his hanging face and anger flared inside her; he had harmed her, it was time for his own punishment. She stepped away from his floundering body and turned her back on his body as it drowned in fire and lime. Under this green sea she saw him drowning. Under this green sea she killed the monster inside her mind. _

_When the mist cleared she noticed a door on the other side of the room, she had to walk over the monster's body to get to it. She kept her head high as she began to walk over to the door, pulling the gas mask off and throwing it to the floor. _

_As she began to step over the still form she screamed as its hand shot out and gripped her ankle, pulling her off balance and down towards the concrete floor. Starling's eyes widened as the face came into her view once more, only this time his dark eyes had shrunk back into his fretted sockets and his blonde hair fell over his forehead, slicked down by the sweat and blood. His hands gripped around her slender neck, very slowly tightening around her neck, like a snake does to its prey. She tried desperately to fight back but found herself unable to. This was her fear, the fear of dying alone… the fear of dying without good cause. Fear of never seeing him again._

**HLHLHLHL**

* * *

><p><strong>Hey... there seems to be a re-occuring theme of Wilfred Owen for some reason... I don't know why :'( I hope you enjoyed the chapter... I'll try to continue when I get the time. I've got a chemistry exam to study for. Fun! Please review...<br>**


	20. Chapter 18

**Hi guys! So... I've had like a months break from writing this, sorry I had to re-find myself. I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do for now... **

"Clarice, do you trust me?" His voice was soft and she looked from the wooden flooring into his eyes.

"Yes." He smiled lightly.

"Lie down on the floor please, Clarice." She looked at him, her eyes revealing her scepticism "Trust me, dear; this will help you."

She sighed, lying back down on the floor, her hands resting lightly over her stomach. Hannibal paced quietly around the room as he spoke.

"Begin by focussing on your breathing, as you breath in your diaphragm should expand; pushing your stomach outwards. Hold it for a few seconds… and relax, you should feel your stomach dip inwards."

Clarice did as she was instructed, concentrating on her breathing and his voice. After about five minutes he began to pace in the almost silent room, the only noises were her deepened breathing and the light tap of his shoes on the wood floor.

"Now, I want you to relax every muscle in your body, I want you to feel like you are almost melding into the floor."

He watched her body intently, watching as the muscles contracted slightly before relaxing fully. He halted his pacing in front of her body.

"Clarice, tense your muscles individually, isolate them; starting from your feet, now to your calves, your thighs, your stomach and now isolate the muscles in your back. Contracting and relaxing each one. Good, now relax again, my dear."

He sat cross-legged in front of her body as he began to speak again, his eyes half closed.

"Imagine yourself somewhere you feel safe, this could be anywhere in the world, I want you to remember this place, Clarice. Remember if you ever feel unsafe during this, come back to this place."

He took a deep breath, not wanting to force her to remember the pain but knowing it was the only way she could be free.

"Clarice, walk away from that place, walk into the deepest corner of your mind; you can see the outline of the shadowed man, you can see his colourless eyes…" His smooth voice dissipated as Clarice's mind wrapped around her and though her body lay on that floor, her soul ran throughout her mind.

**HLHLHL**

_She reluctantly slipped her hand from his own, moving across the bay towards the looking-glass. Trees made this small bay secluded. She quickened her pace towards the glass; there in the darkness lay the fear… the rage… the pain. _

_Clarice looked into the darkness. Flashes of pain hit her as she looked into the colourless, detached, inhuman eyes. _

_A hand shoots out from the darkness, gripping at her throat and pulling her into the never ending abyss. She struggles, clawing at the hand as it pulls at her, its fingers digging into her pale skin, drawing crimson shreds from her; taking away her lifeline. _

_She slipped through the looking-glass. She could smell the death and damp. She tried to desperately get out of the shadow's fearsome grip but realized it was in vain as she was strapped into the uncomfortable plastic chair. A bright light was turned on, illuminating the darkness. Looking around she found herself back inside the basement. _

_She scanned the room, her eyes taking several seconds to adjust. Her breath stopped momentarily when she saw the large sink and the shadowed form that leant against it. She felt her blood run cold as she saw the water running freely over the basin's edge; it was like a waterfall as it fell gracefully onto the floor. _

_The figure came towards her; he was a darkened shadow, a cloud of smoke as he moved. His fingers were long and skinny, she noticed, as an arm reached through the smoke and gripped the right side of her face. She winced as her face began to burn and she felt the thick blood begin to trickle down her face, like syrup onto pancakes. _

_She saw a sadistic smile creep into the light and she grimaced when she was harshly pulled from the chair and towards the sink. She tried to cling onto the chair, her nails digging into the flimsy plastic as she desperately tried to postpone the impending death she would temporarily feel as she was plunged deep within the icy water. _

_Her fingers could not take the strain any longer and they retracted from her mind's commands; giving her to death himself. _

**HLHLHL **

Hannibal watched as her face began to contort and twist in pain and fear. _You knew this would be hard for the both of you; that she would have to feel the pain again and overcome it… you've done this before, Hannibal you know this is the only way to bring her final peace. As much as it hurts to see her in this mental pain you must help her through it, you must guide your little Starling into the light and out from the darkness. _

"Clarice? Clarice, listen to me. Listen to my voice; you must fight back, you must fight against this darkness. You must show him that you are the stronger warrior because you and I both know that to be true. Clarice you must fight back….."

**HLHLHL **

_He roughly pulled her head up from the blood-tainted water and smirked as she gasped hoarsely for air. _

"_You fucking bitch! You wouldn't let go of your morals two years ago for him but when someone else in a foreign country makes the sacrifice you let everything slide… you allow yourself to give yourself to him, to be one with your monster because it's not you who has to make the hard decision about life and death. If someone else makes the decision to destroy their life and their society for your happiness that's fine because the blood isn't on your hands…. Because…." _

_His voice was drowned out by a higher, more omni-potent voice that came from nowhere. _

"_The most important battle is the one to conquer yourself, Clarice. This demon has latched himself onto you, become part of you…" _

_Clarice Starling finally decided to take hold of the demon that lay behind the looking-glass. Her elbow moved on impulse, slamming into his lower abdomen. The creature stumbled back, dragging her to the floor with him. They hit the dirty concrete and Starling turned, reaching for the creature's throat. Her slender hands wrapped around its throat and she began to apply increasing pressure, skilfully squeezing the life from this creature. _

_The darkness around it began to dissipate as the creature's life force was slowly drained. The mist cleared and she was able to see its face. Looking down she wondered briefly how she could have been scared of such a worthless, hateful, pitiful excuse for a human being. She shook her head, no longer afraid of the 'demon' in her mind. As she walked back towards the looking glass she looked behind her and watched as the body died. _

"_We commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust…"_

_She looked behind her and looking back at her, through the glass, stood Hannibal Lecter, his maroon eyes sparkling with pride. He extended a hand for her, she took it stepping back through the looking-glass and turning her back on the conquered land of death and fear. _

**HLHLHLHL **

"Now, Clarice, we return to your place of safety. Concentrate on your breathing once more, keeping it slow and regulated. Good, I want you to slowly awaken from this semi-conscious state Clarice., very slowly begin to open your eyes, flex your muscles again… contacting and relaxing, isolating them once more. Very good, dear…"

He watched her as she isolated each muscle, as she became more aware of her surroundings and came back to reality.

"Take a minute to align your body before slowly starting to sit back up."

She did as she was told, aligning her mind and muscles before cautiously sitting up. Clarice looked at Lecter, who had been sitting, cross-legged, just in front of her feet. She mirrored his position and sat in a comfortable silence as they simply allowed each other to adjust for a moment.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" Clarice looked at him and gave a small smile.

"Better, thank you. I…I think I've gotten over him now… gotten over the fear and trepidation that I felt. Thank you, Hannibal." He nodded and they were silent once more.

"Where… where did you learn that technique? I never heard of it being used before." He nodded.

"Mhm, you're correct, it's not a proper treatment. I learnt it a long time ago, a friend and I took a trip to Tibet and we spent some time in a Buddhist temple, I learnt this technique, among various other things, from them. It was an… _enlightening _experience."

"I thought you weren't religious…"

"I'm not exactly. My mother was very catholic, however. The friend I went with was studying deeply in the religions; she was trying to find some meaning to it all…"

"Tell me about your mother…" He went silent for a moment. "Please?" Her voice was soft. He looked into her eyes, they were a soft blue and he took pleasure in seeing the curiosity and care that filled them.

"What is it you would like to know, Clarice?" She sat and thought for a moment, gently chewing on her bottom lip.

"What's your fondest memory of her?" He continued to look at her but seemed immersed in his memories.

"The Christmas before my family died. My mother was becoming annoyed with father's attempts at playing the piano; he was better at playing the violin, so she took his place and began to play. I sat next to her and she took my hands, placing them beneath her own and she manipulated my small hands into playing Ave Maria by Schubert."

A melancholy smile crossed him face as he relived the memory.

"My hands were so small I struggled to reach some of the keys…"

Clarice smiled at the thought of a miniature Hannibal Lecter struggling to play the piano.

"I still remember the way her dark hair fell over her face, the way her eyes sparkled as she smiled kindly at me in my attempts to reach keys that my hands could not. Her laugh echoes sometimes, when I play Eva Maria…"

He snapped away from the thought and drew his attention back to Clarice. Her eyes reflected his own feelings and she moved to sit behind him, wrapping her legs around his waist and resting her cheek against his own, she encouraged his body to lean back into her own and she kissed his neck lightly before whispering, "Thank you, H."

"Clarice?" She opened her eyes and looked at him with curiosity.

"Mhm?"

"Happy Birthday, my dear."

He smiled lightly at her as he passed her a rectangular velvet box. She smiled; she had been so caught up with everything, with her fears and the nightmares, that she had forgotten her own birthday. _But he never forgets, does he? _She cautiously took the box from his hands, slowly opening it. She gasped when she saw the pear-shaped and marquise diamonds set snugly together in a platinum bracelet.

"Oh my… Hannibal this is…It's beautiful!" She hugged him tightly and kissed him, when she broke the kiss he smiled fondly, taking her wrist gently and placing the bracelet on it. They both sat for a moment and admired how the light played on the diamonds, diffusing across their bodies.

Hannibal took her hand and led her out of the living room, taking her upstairs into his bedroom.

"Clarice, you may wish to shower and change before this evening." She smiles at him, her head tilting slightly to the side.

"Why?"

"You never ask…"

"It spoils the surprise?" He winked at her.

"Exactly. Now, darling, please go shower and get ready, we have just over an hour and a half before we shall leave the house." She nodded her acknowledgement and turned to enter the en-suit bathroom.

"Oh, Clarice, one more thing… May I suggest that you wear a dress for this evening? There is a variety in the wardrobe that you may like." He smiled again, showing perfectly white teeth, before quickly exiting the room and moving into the guest's en-suit bathroom to quickly shower and change into his suit for tonight.

**HLHLHLHL**

**So... that's all for now. Surprise comes in the next chapter I'm afraid... Please read and review guys... I'll buy you all cookies from Fortnum and Mason! **


	21. Chapter 19

**Okay... so, I haven't updated this in about 9 months. Sorry about that! The joys of exams... well I passed most of my exams - except Physics! I got a D! Haha... anyways, this is slowly coming to a close, there's maybe one or two chapters left. So... Ja, happy reading I guess. **

"To continued happiness and dreamless nights, my dear." Lecter flashed her a smile as he raised his crystal wine glass, the dark liquid shone black as the moon gazed down upon the couple.

"For the both of us, Hannibal." Clarice raised her glass before taking a sip of the full-bodied, fruity wine. She placed the wine glass on the grass beside her before leaning back into his body, Hannibal's arms locked around her body, protecting her against the cold winter breeze. She tilted her head back, her lips meeting his in a gentle kiss. Starling felt him smile against her lips as she nipped at his skin.

"Happy Birthday, my dear." She spun around in his arms, pressing the length of her body against his own, and met his lips once more in a sweet, tender kiss.

* * *

><p>The early sunlight diffused through the window, breaking through the crack in the curtains and spattering over the dishevelled silk bed sheets. Clarice Starling sighed contentedly, smiling as she looked over to her lover, his hair tousled and his bare chest moving up and down in a steady rhythm. She lightly kissed his forehead before sliding from the sheets and moving into the bathroom to shower, her feet making little pit-pat noises on the stone flooring of the bathroom.<p>

She languidly showered and eventually stepped out, and, having successfully steamed up the entire bathroom, had to grope around looking for a towel. Upon finding one she tied it around her body and strolled back into the master bedroom. He hadn't gotten up yet and she didn't want to wake him, he looked so peaceful and innocent when he slept. She slowly dried her body, applying the custom scented body cream Lecter had brought her and picking up his discarded silk shirt from the night before, amazingly it was still in one piece, and she slipped it over her head before towel drying her hair and walking downstairs. She walked into the kitchen and filled the kettle with water before placing it on the stove.

Just as she had begun pouring out coffee for Hannibal and herself she felt his arms wrap around her waist and he alternately kissed and nipped softly at her neck and ear. She moaned and leaned back into him.

"Good Morning, dear." He said his voice rough and husky as he took the kettle from her hands and continued to pour the hot water into the mugs.

"Mmm…hi." She turned her head and captured his lips, kissing him lightly at first until he began to deepen the kiss, quickly placing the kettle on the side and pushing her away from the hot drinks before lifting her onto the counter, positioning his body between her legs. He cupped her cheek, his fingers caressing the almost healed scars there. It had been five months since she had gained those scars, all of her scars emotional and physical scars had begun to heal.

He continued to kiss her as his hand caressed her thigh moving up over her abdomen before he cupped her breast.

"Mhm, Hannibal… please, H…. not in the kitchen." He nipped at her bottom lip again before releasing her and helping her down off of the marble countertop.

"Besides I'm hungry." He smiled as she moved the coffee onto the kitchen table.

"Hungry for what I wonder?" He raised an eyebrow and she laughed before swatting his arm.

"Food, you know damn well I'm starving for a proper breakfast this morning… we barely got through dinner last night."

He smiled, fondly remembering the night before. Lecter moved towards the fridge as Starling jumped off the counter, pulling out a carton of eggs, butter, prosciutto ham and some parmesan cheese. He quickly began to make an omelette, putting some oil in the pan to heat as he began to whisk the eggs. Within five minutes he had cooked Clarice an omelette. She sighed as the smells of Hannibal Lecter's wonderful cooking met her and quickly bounded from the chair, stealing the plate from his hand as soon as the omelette had made contact with the china. She picked up a knife and fork from the silverware drawer and began to eat like a starving man. Hannibal sat down opposite her, smiling into his coffee as she eagerly consumed the omelette within mere minutes.

He turned around quickly when the doorbell rang. His trusted harpy was automatically within his palm. He held a hand for Clarice to stay where she was and walked silently towards the door, his heightened senses on high alert. He unlocked the door calmly.

"Guten Morgen, Herr Doktor."

A solemn tone of German escaped from the man standing at Hannibal's door. Lecter quickly took in the man's appearance; _dark circles beneath his eyes from a lack of sleep, a potent smell of highly caffeinated tobacco and alcohol, his uniform is creased, but not as much as one would expect considering he has been wearing it every day for the past six months, indicating that he is here on official business and only had enough time to quickly run an iron over it. The black briefcase was obviously given to him by a lawyer, it's too well made to be owned by a lieutenant colonel and much too small for this bulky gentleman. _Hannibal looked into Wolfgang Pagel's dark emerald eyes and noted the hidden sadness behind them as he took off his visor cap.

"I'm sorry if I am interrupting anything. However, I am here on business and it's vital it be finished today."

"Of course, Herr Pagel. Please, come in." Lecter held the door open for the other man, allowing him entry. He took Wolf's great-coat and hung it on the coat stand before leading the man into the kitchen and offering him a seat.

"Would you care for some tea?" Pagel shook his head and stared at his rough, overly large hands for a long moment. Hannibal took a seat next to Clarice and the two watched as Pagel composed himself before speaking.

"Now, as you know, six months ago… six months ago Colonel Hollie Gladwin went missing. The Berlin Polizei has been investigating the situation thoroughly and the evidence… the evidence suggests unequivocally that she is dead." His voice hitched several times and he ran a hand down his face, covering his mouth for a few moments before continuing.

"In light of this I found the last will and testament of Hollie Reinhardt, née Gladwin. She had left a newly revised version on her desk at the Bendlerblock, along with a note, Herr Doktor. It informed me of your whereabouts and that I was to only read the will to yourself, Miss Starling and an old friend of hers. As I had already found Lieutenant-Colonel March, it came upon me to see that I found the both of you."

He pulled the well-kept black leather briefcase from the floor and quickly unlocked it, flipping the top open. Pagel extracted a thick bundle of cream coloured papers, unrolling them he began to read.

" I, Hollie Louise Gladwin-Reiche, being of sound and disposing mind, do hereby make, publish and declare the following to be my last will and testament, revoking all previous will and codicils made by me. "

Wolf mumbled to himself as he read quickly through the paragraphs until he came upon those that he needed.

"To Doctor Hannibal Lecter, I hereby leave: my family estate located in the black forest;" Wolf pulled out an old, yellowing deed that had a black ribbon tied around it and a red wax seal that bared the crest of her family. A large set of keys followed it.

"The photo album from our travels, although I know he not need it; both my house in Berlin and in Hamburg and my original Bundeswehr ceremonial sword that saved me through times of desperation and struggle."

He took out a large brown leather photo album that was decorated with an intricate paisley design, some more deeds that were also sealed with crimson wax and a black ribbon and more keys. He passed them over to Lecter who nodded curtly. Pagel picked up a long oak box, it was around 37inches in length. He gently placed it on the table, standing as he opened it. Wolf cautiously brought out the sheathed sword. The weapon had a Silver-plated lion's head hilt with hand-wound grip, Einigheit-Recht-Freiheit was engraved on the hilt band and gold filigree had been laid into the handle and as Lecter took it he unsheathed it. To him it felt perfectly balanced and had been well cared for over the years, his maroon eyes looked down into the silver steel for a long moment. It was decorated with fine, oak leaves, and the ceremonial oath engraved on its length, he saw flashes of Gladwin in full ceremonial uniform with this sword at her side, so rarely taken out of its scabbard but it had always lain at her side like the silent friend with an unwavering loyalty; always there when you need it and always ready to defend you. Starling was silent when Wolf sat back down and looked at her.

"To Clarice. M Starling, I leave my Walther P.38, may it serve her as reliably as it has done me, may her aim stay true and her trigger finger be swift. I also leave her my journals, I hope they will enlighten her as to the truth she wanted from me so often."

He handed her the pistol before pulling out a small pile of leather backed journals and sliding them over the table to her.

"Now," He looked up from the papers, his green eyes dull and void of happiness. "There is one final thing, Herr Doktor. She has requested that I give you... That I give you these."

Wolf extracted two palm-sized black leather boxes and handed them to Lecter. Hannibal already knew what they contained but opened them nonetheless. Staring back at him were two white gold wedding rings, one was a simple band for a man and the other was an open curved white-gold band that delicately accentuated the asscher cut diamond. Clarice marveled at the two beautifully matching rings.

"I hope these bring you as much happiness they brought me." Wolf quoted from his folder of papers.

Clarice felt a blush cover her cheeks as she lowered her head in attempt to hide it, a stolen glance from her periphery to Hannibal let her know nothing of what he thought; he was the master of concealed emotion.

"I know this may be difficult for the both of you but... Well, she asked that the both of you come to the funeral but there's a little complication for you, Herr Doktor; it's a state funeral; I have no idea whether it will be televised." He flipped through the papers. "However... Ah, she really did think of everything - even in the face of death she thought of everything... except her own fucking safety." His hand quickly covered his eyes and he angrily rubbed away the tears.

"I'm sorry... She requested that it not be televised. The official date for the funeral is the 27th of this month, if you wish to come I will meet you at Potsdamer Platz train station."

"But we have nowhere to stay..." Starling began.

"Of course you do! You own her house now." He snapped, his voice was harsher than he expected. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so short tempered..." He looked down at the floor, staring blankly at his boots.

"I should go. I... I will see you soon, Herr Doktor, Detective Starling." He nodded to the couple before placing the last of the papers within his briefcase and headed for the door. He shrugged the trench-coat on and took his visor cap, nervously passing it from one hand to the other. Hannibal opened the door for him.

"Herr Doktor... there is one other thing..."

* * *

><p>The couple woke early on the 26th, ready to travel to Berlin from Cologne. Their bags were already packed and they changed quickly before exiting the house and walking in silence towards the patiently waiting taxi. It was a 50 minute drive to Cologne and the pair sat in the back of the mercedes, neither spoke. Starling simply curled her body against Lecter's side, her arm loosely wrapping around his waist while her head was buried into his shoulder. Hannibal held her close for the journey.<p>

_So.. it's true. Gladwin is dead... She always seemed so... so...invincible! Especially with some of the stunts she pulled! But Gladwin gave her life to save mine, she... she traded herself in my place so that I could have this life. It's all my fault! If I hadn't followed her... If I had just trusted her and waited for the truth... _

"What are you thinking?" He asked, his voice was soft, as he traced an index finger along her jawline. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it unable to figure out how to word it exactly.

"You know you can tell me anything, Clarice." She nodded before taking a deep breath.

"I... I was thinking about.. about Gladwin." He looked deep into her blue eyes, saw the guilt-ridden conviction, and sighed.

"Clarice, do not regret what happened. It does not do well to dwell on what-ifs and forget the present. Hollie felt she had nothing and no one to live for anymore - therefore she willingly gave her life for your own because she saw that you could have what she believed she could never have; a family and unconditional happiness."

"Why? Why couldn't she have those things? This is what I don't understand." Lecter took her small hand within his own, entwining their fingers. His thumb gently stroked the back of her hand.

"Hollie had become unyieldingly faithful to her husband and when he died she was distraught and extremely angry, especially when she found out who killed him. She could be a very vengeful person at times."

"What happened?"

"After his death? She found the men involved and murdered them but not until she had broken them, tortured them until they no longer had the strength to even beg for their deaths." Starling's face whited and she forced the disgust away. She knew Gladwin could kill without second thought but it still seemed wrong.

"Who murdered him? Her husband, I mean." She quickly changed the topic.

"The same man who kidnapped you, darling. She thought that Hans was the only man who unconditionally loved her, every side of her, both light and dark, and he did but he wasn't the only one."

"So Nikolai loved Gladwin too?" Clarice asked.

"Yes, and she loved him back."

"What?" Clarice sat back, nearly stunned. "But why? How could she?

"It is very complicated, Clarice. Nikolai is the embodiment of the darker side of her personality and he knows it, he uses it to his advantage. During the war Hollie was forced to infiltrate the KGB to do this she pursued Nikolai but she forgot her one rule: never burden yourself with emotions for, although they are ornamental enough in peacetime, they are out of place here on the front lines."

The car came to a halt, letting them know they have arrived. They quickly stepped out of the cream mercades and Hannibal quickly paid the driver after he removed their bags from the trunk of the car. Lecter carried both suitcases and the two walked quickly into the train station, they arrived just in time to board the 8:30 train to Berlin. Once boarded and settled into their own personal cabin, Clarice pulled out a journal of Hollie's to read with her legs tucked under her and leaning against the window, she opened to the first page.

* * *

><p><em>We're moving. Mother decided enough is enough. Today we move back to Germany. Ever since DCI... no, ever since Father died last year the snide comments and isolation from the community have gotten worse, Mother says we will need to move to East Berlin, Uncle Georg has a house there... Thankfully he won't be there! He ran away to Argentina with the rest of the Nazis. Apparently mother's been thinking about moving since the funeral but decided to wait, to let me finish my A-levels first. Hopefully East Berlin won't be as bad as what I've heard.<em>

* * *

><p><em>This evening Major Ivanov came back... I managed to get out and go to work before he and Yuri noticed me... they think we're all fascists! Thank God then Nazis burnt most of their documents! There's no proof about what the Oberführer did!<em>

_The underground is getting stronger but it won't last long; the Stasi always find us eventually. I... I found mother on the floor when I came back, her body was so badly bruised, I took her upstairs and cared for her physical wounds. She's such a strong woman, no one else could endure so much and still be able to function normally. I can't let it continue! We need to do something! She can't take this much longer... I wonder what Hauptmann Wiesler thinks of Mutti?! He seems nice - for a Stasi officer! He might be able to stop it... he might be able to stop those Russians from continually raping her but how to get to him?_

* * *

><p>Starling's face paled slightly when she read the entry. <em>No wonder she never trusted the Russians... no wonder she hated them as she did. They raped her mother!<em>

She looked over to Hannibal who was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, his head tilted back so it rested lightly on the red leather backing of the seat, his fedora was inclined downwards so that it hid his eyes and forehead. She smiled softly before turning back to the black leather journal, picking a random section to read.

* * *

><p><em>We set up camp in Lithuania today, an officer in the Lithuanian cavalry lent me his horse and as I rode past on horseback I noted an old 15th century castle stood north-easterly of our position, I believe it was used as an orphanage by the Russians after the war and - from what the Oberführer told me - a base of operations by the Nazis during the second world war. I've decided to check it out today; the historian in me taking over.<em>

_Well, my suspicions were confirmed, the castle was completely ransacked and desecrated. Fucking Russians never know a good thing when they see it! I ride my horse around to the old portcullis, my eyes scanning the entire castle noting the old medieval defences as I approached. I hopped down off the horse, gently stroking its black mane before setting off on foot. I am inside the main courtyard. There's an old stone fountain in the centre, it is now overgrown with ivy and the water that was once inside it has now dried up leaving it empty. I walk up to the great oak doors that lead into what would have been the main foyer. The house screamed its story of loss and war as I explored, the rooms were burnt and paint chipped away in some places, revealing the beautiful masonry beneath.. In front of me there is a grand staircase, leading up to the second floor of the castle. I decide to start up there first. I feel a strange presence inside this house, like something is watching my every move. Maybe it's the ghosts of the past._

_The old wooden floorboards creak under my weight and I walk towards the first room I see. It turns out to be an old library; this seems to be the second floor of it. I can see the first floor below me. There must be more than 3000 books here; most of them look first editions. I let my hand skim over the spines of the books and take a good look around the room. It is circular with the second and third floor consisting of an almost balcony like structure. I look down onto the first floor. There is an old leather armchair with a small stack of books next to it, a few are still open. **That's strange… it's like someone's still living here but no one would want to live here now. **I can smell more than feel the presence behind me and I prepare my body for this snake's first strike. They grab me from behind, gripping my injured right arm and throwing me into a bookcase, a few of the books fall to the floor beside me. My attacker lifts up my chin, exposing my throat._

_His voice is cold next to my ear, "Who are you? What are you doing in this place?"_

_I look up into his eyes, my cold blue meeting his: dangerous; mysterious; frightening; maroon - darker than blood. Another predator!_

"_My name is Major Hollie Gladwin, if you wouldn't mind, sir, I should ask you the same question… What are you doing in this place?"_

_He looks into my eyes and sees no fear. He feels my body sigh in defeat and loosens his grip. My eyes smile. **Righty-ho, it's time to get my own back. **My body immediately tenses and before he realizes that my defeat was all an act, I pounce. I use his own weight against him, my foot having positioned itself in the perfect place to trip him up. I force him to lose his balance then take my chances by tackling him to the floor. We tumble through the dust and splinters, both battling for control. I end up on top of him, straddling his waist and quickly running my hands over his sleeves; checking for a weapon. I smile as I feel a small curved object and I release it and feel its weight and power in my hands, flipping the curved blade open and admiring the way it glimmers in the morning light._

_I pocket it and look down at this man. He smells of blood and smoke, his eyes are only just returning to their original maroon; you can see the darkness receding within, the adrenalin from a fight is starting to seep away. I know the feeling all too well, the feeling of taking a life; the strange excitement and thrill. **Who have you been fighting recently, hmm?**_

"_Now, I'll ask you, sir. What is your name? What right do you have to be here?"_

_He looks me dead in the eyes, not revealing anything; he keeps his mouth shut tight and his eyes blocked from emotion. I give half a smile._

"_If you don't tell me, I'm just going to have to phone the authorities and I don't think that would be fun for you and definitely not much fun for me. Let's make a deal, hmm? You tell me your name and why you're here. I'll answer any questions you have of me, does that seem fair?"_

_He mumbles something in Lithuanian. I automatically become distracted; running through the corridors of my mind trying to access the Lithuanian that I know. He uses it to his advantage, using his superior strength and weight, he rolled us over again. I kick off the floor and the momentum sends us slamming into the bookcase. We both scramble to our feet. I automatically reach for my Walther, flipping it into my hand and pulling the hammer back, training it on his heart. My face is as deadpan as his own; we know this is not a moment for emotion and thought - simply instinct. He keeps eye contact the entire time and I find myself starting to get lost in those eyes. They seem to reflect my own soul, like looking into a deep well._

_He closes the distance between us in seconds, twisting my right arm behind my back - forcing me to drop the gun - and slamming me into the cold stone wall. I wince and let out a muffled grunt. **Shouldn't have done this! You're going to get yourself fucking killed at this rate, woman. First Nikolai, now this guy, you just can't help but fall for these dangerous guys can you? **He presses his body against mine and I close my eyes to block out the visions of Him. His hand slips inside my tunic and he takes out the harpy, flicking it open in front of me, letting it rest on my jugular. He leans in, his breath warm on my ear._

"_Now, can I trust you to stop attacking me, Major?" _

_The knife travels down to the thin skin covering my collarbone; he skims it across the surface._

_I feel something within me snap. My eyes flash open and I push against him, his knife catching my skin slightly but the pain is nothing to the anger I feel. I push him into the wooden railing._

_I hiss at him in Russian and push him further over the edge. He can see that I'm not in this world… that I am trapped inside a memory. He raises the knife into my line of vision, slowly closing it and putting it back inside his pocket. It's a simple gesture of trust. Another flash in my eyes. My chest heaves as I take a shuddering breath. A tear runs down my face and my grip loosens. He slowly moves away from my grasp as I begin to slide down onto the timeworn floor._

_He stands above me for a moment, taking a sip of my pain and finding it exquisite but something else hits him when he sees my sleeve move an inch, revealing the patterned scar underneath. He kneels down to me and looks at me for a second before taking hold of my chin and looking into my eyes._

"_Was ist deine geschichte, kleiner Major?"_

* * *

><p>The train pulled into Potsdamer Platz train station at precisely 1:35pm. The couple departed and Clarice linked her arm with Lecter's, making sure to stay with him at all times.<p>

"Herr Doktor, Detektiv Starling, Thank you for coming." Wolf shook Lecter's hand and smiled sadly at Clarice before taking one of the bags and leading the pair towards his car. The drive from Potsdamer Platz to Gladwin's house wasn't too long but to Starling it was awkward, long and tedious. Wolf pulled up to the house and looked back at the couple from the driver's seat.

"The funeral is being held at the Berlin cathedral tomorrow at noon. The body will be on display but... but it will have a death mask, it was so badly mutilated that we can barely recognize her. The only way we knew it was her was the clothing and her blood." He frowned.

"Her Royce is back in the garage, it is yours now. Take it before the solicitor does. I take it you will make your own way there?" Hannibal nodded.

"Then I will see you tomorrow, Herr Doktor." Hannibal and Clarice said goodbye before exiting and grabbing their bags from the car.

They walked up the stone steps, unlocked the door and, finally, were alone in the house of their dead friend.

* * *

><p>The house had died. Starling felt the chill of death that ran through the corridors and rooms of the home, it was a home that had felt too much sorrow and pain. No matter how many lights she turned on or how many curtains she opened the home stayed dark and dreary, mourning the loss of it's last inhabitant.<p>

Clarice Starling climbed the staircase, Gabriel Yared's _Die sonate vom Guten Menschen _floated out from the living room, it's melancholic notes filling the house. She walked slowly down the hallway, stopping at the last door, her hand hovered over the brass doorknob. Clarice hesitantly pushed it open.

The room was dark. A large mahogany king-sized bed sat in the centre of the room, matching bedside tables flanked it. Starling shuffled into the room a little more, realizing she had entered Gladwin's bedroom - _What WAS Gladwin's bedroom, you mean, girl! _The chocolate coloured curtains were drawn closed and Clarice noticed several vials that sat on a chest of drawers next to the window. She walked over to them and inspected the labels. Two bottles were Morphine prescribed to Doctor Hollie Gladwin, another was a bottle of methadone also prescribed to Gladwin, next to them was a hypodermic syringe. Clarice frowned before continuing to look around the room. The right side bedside table - which was furthest away from the door - held a small clock, a pager, some unmarked foil pill packets and an A5 black notebook. She opened it, there was a small handwritten inscription in the corner of the first page.

"_Für meine Abhangigkeit, Schönes Jubiläum. Ich hoffe für viele mehr Glücklich jahren mit sie, mein liebe. Ewig dein, Hans" _

Starling flipped through it, flashes of colour raced before her. She stopped at a random page and admired the beautiful drawing on the page. A profile of Gladwin was drawn over a watercolour painting of Hamburg. Gently she placed the book back in its spot before glancing over to the other bedside table. It looked as if it had been untouched for years. There was a clock, some credentials, a SIG P220 pistol and a leather bound copy of _Kleiner Mann, Was nun? _Clarice picked up the credentials: _Polizeidirektor Hans Reinhardt... So this is her husband. He was a police officer! Did she try to live the life that was taken away from him? _Starling shook her head free from the thoughts and quickly exited the room.

As she began to walk down the hallway once more her gaze concentrated on the ceiling. Clarice finally noticed the concealed door.

"…_I just ask one thing of you…I need you not to enter the attic." _Gladwin's words echoed through her mind as she grabbed a chair from the nearest room. Standing on it she reached for the silver handle on the small door, she could not reach. Her face contorted angrily as she attempted to grab it once more and failed. A deep chuckled scared her and she fell backwards off the chair.

"Clarice, darling, what _are _you doing?" Starling jumped off the floor, pulling her jeans up as she did so, and glared at him.

"I was trying to get into the attic." He smiled gently at her, moving the chair back into the room.

"I may as well protect this chair before you cause it any more harm in your quest for answers." He closed the door to the spare room before turning his attention back to Clarice.

"Now, as for you predicament of procuring a way into the attic."

He walked swiftly over to a bookshelf that was fitted into the wall, sliding his hand over the dark wood. Hannibal's large hand stroked down the edge of the bookshelf, stopping about midway down his index finger hit something and he pulled the bookshelf away from the wall, revealing a set of stairs. Starling gaped in awe before walking towards it, Lecter chuckled again.

"Clarice, enjoy your hunt." He coaxed her up the stairs.

"Don't you wanna come?"

"No, my dear, I have been up there many a time but maybe later if you still wish me too." Clarice nodded before continuing up the hidden staircase.

The attic was a large, refurbished room. A small sofa had been inserted into the corner along with an old marble coffee table. On the other side of the room to Clarice stood an old desk, some filing cabinets and a 1930s metal medical cabinet. She walked over to the marble table, there were a few papers scattered across it and - to Starling's surprise - she found a late 19th century, Japanese style opium pipe and a small case of opium tobacco. She frowned before walking over to the desk, there wasn't much to find, only more loose papers and a British Warrant card. Flipping it open she found out it belonged to a Detective Chief Inspector John Raymond Gladwin. _Must be her father._ Clarice tried the filing cabinets but only one opened, inside was a large file. She heaved it out and noticed a small note on top.

_Clarice, obviously you've ignored my words to you, hmm? I may have been killed but that doesn't mean I won't be able to scold you in the afterlife! _

She imagined this is where Gladwin would give one of those lopsided half smirks.

_Hope you find your answers in here, Starling. I must tell you, anything you discover in here cannot be spoken of to anyone except Hannibal, yourself or Wolfgang! Viel Glück. HG. _

A shudder went down Starling's back and she slipped the note off the thick dossier before beginning to read it.

* * *

><p><em>Ich hatt einen Kameraden <em>played through the church as the Wachbataillon did a final check of their instruments. Outside the flag flew at half-mast and the wind picked up as the coffin was brought through the grounds, escorted by six Bundeswehr officers, a Bundeswehr flag was draped over it, its edges flicking up ever so slightly as the wind helped it on its way to the church. The air was damp, a lone Berliner sat on a bench - his face tilted to the rain. He knew the smell of it, the taste of it. It was Baltic rain, from the north, cold and sea-scented, tangy with salt. For a moment he was taken back sixteen years, in the turret of a Panzer tank, slipping out of Lithuania, lights doused, in the darkness.

He turned his face back to watch as members of the Wachbataillon carried the mahogany casket, their faces solemn beneath the shadow of their green berets. The Berliner stood, straightening his uniform and donning his visor cap. The only colour that broke through the grey was the red piping along his shoulder boards and cap. He muttered to himself as he began to walk down the stone pathway between the trees, his boots crunching on the snow.

"Herr Oberstleutnant." He looked up at the lieutenant who saluted him.

"Ja? Was willst du?" He snapped.

"The funeral does not start until 12.00, sir. I cannot allow you entry. Oberstleutnant March, you should get out of the rain, sir."

March turned on his heels, ignoring the protests of the lieutenant, and walked in the opposite direction, needing to clear his mind. He lent against the iron railings and looked down into the Spree, watching as the rain was fired into it in small pellets, from his inside pocket he procured a small note and his frown deepened, he finally decided to open it.

"_Liebe Xavier, if you are reading this then I am dead - or presumed to be so... Don't mourn me; we had a good long run, old friend. Eventually, though, a time comes when we must stop running and face the music. There were times when death swept across me and I thought that I was left to drown but you were always there to pull me to safety, even when I was too proud to admit I needed your help. I guess, Zavi, that what I'm trying to say is thank you. Thank you for everything. _

_I want you to know that, as your superior officer, I've always been proud of you. I also want you to know that, as a person... as a woman, I have always loved you. I always will. Therefore, my love, I ask one thing of you and one thing only: find a woman who will love you as you loved me and enjoy life. Do not mourn me. Do not seek those who have killed me. Do love life. Do live as I have not. Ich liebe dich, mein liebe. _

_Immer dein, Hollie." _

The bullets of water hit against the plastic of his peaked cap and dripped off onto his nose before mixing with the tears that fell freely from his eyes. He breathed deeply, calming himself before looking at his watch. _Time to pick up the American and the doctor. _He frowned. _An Oberstleutnant of the Heer is being told to chauffer an American and der Doktor. Rank means nothing anymore! _March sighed before walking back to his Volkswagen, ready to pick up his colonel's friends for one final goodbye.


	22. Chapter 20

"Gutentag, Oberstleutnant March." Lecter hopped down the cold stone steps, shrugging on his coat as he did so. He shook March's hand.

"Artz Lecter, Fraulein Starling." The officer nodded. "Aber Ich denke dass es ist ein _guten _tag nicht . Haben du?"

Lecter closed his eyes for a moment and March realized he had been rude.

"Es tut mir leid, Herr Doktor; schrecklich tag." March held the door open for Lecter and Starling, allowing them to climb into the car before he returned to the driver's side. He put the car into gear and entered the smooth flow of traffic.

"Fraulein Starling... Ich heiße ... Es tut mir leid! My name is Xavier March. Please, excuse my English... I am not very used to speaking it."

_Xavier March... I've heard that name before... Gladwin's journal! What was it she wrote about him… __**Xavier 'Zavi' March: hardworking; cares about the men; patriotic; command material. I'm pleased he is my second in command and not that idiot Goldmann. He's a pleasant enough man, the men seem to like him and he is absolutely charming... had I not met Herr Reinhardt - and if I wasn't a superior officer - I would date him! He's handsome in his own scruffy kind of way and very funny... **__That was it..._

Starling studied March's face, he had a strong jaw line and had recently shaved. His light brown hair obviously didn't like to cooperate with a hairbrush as random tuffs were sticking out, he had sideburns running parallel to the line of his jaw and she could see his hazelnut eyes in the rear-view mirror, they scanned the traffic, ignoring the couple in the back of the vehicle. She could see a deep loss in his eyes, something she had seen - and felt - all too many times. His gloved hands gripped the wheel tightly as he turned into a car park and switched off the engine.

"We must walk from here." He exited the car, opening the back door and helping Clarice to exit, she smiled her thanks to him, his face remained impassive. Xavier opened the trunk and pulled out two long black umbrellas, handing one to Lecter and kept the other for himself. March slipped his peaked cap over his untamed hair, shielding his eyes from view, and turned on his heels and led the way. Clarice and Hannibal followed, their dark clothing protected from the rain by the umbrella.

**HLHLHLHL**

The church was dreary and dull, even the light that dispersed through the stain glass windows seemed grey and mournful. Six honour guards stood near the coffin, three on either side, their faces emotionless beneath the darkness cast by the grey helmets. Basked in the grey light of the day stood a picture of Hollie, her face turned upwards, the visor cap casting dark shadows across her profile making her look regal and intimidating.

Clarice scanned the faces of the people; she found many military men, two politicians, a handful of doctors and a few civilians. Clarice and Hannibal silently followed March into the cathedral, Hannibal slowed down as Xavier approached the coffin, they stopped walking and watched March for a moment. He removed his visor cap, placing it beneath his arm, his heels clicked together and he stopped at the edge of the coffin. The Lieutenant Colonel's head was bowed slightly and Starling couldn't quite hear what he said but his face looked pained and anguished, Clarice empathized with the man, she felt the same way at her father's funeral, although it had never been as, for lack of a better word Starling defined it as grand. After a few moments Xavier pulled something out of his inside pocket and subtly placed it within the coffin. He turned and moved over to a gathering of officers on one of the pews.

A gust of wind blew through the cathedral as the doors opened once more, another member of the public walked in; he resembled Gladwin in a way, with his light blonde hair, grey blue eyes and high cheekbones but his skin was far more tanned. He wore a black suit, black tie, white wing-collar dress shirt and black wing tips that were overly polished. He looked in his early eighties but he wasn't frail, he had a regal, pompous air about him. The gentleman's hair was obscured by a bowler hat, bar the few loose locks that hung over his forehead. The rhythmic dull tap of a cane followed him as he walked. The gathering of officers all looked up at the man who had entered and frowned, they watched him closely as he walked down the aisle, taking off his hat and combing back his hair without halting in his stride. He peered into the coffin and frowned.

"Mein schöne Nichte...Was hast du getan..." The honour guard watched the man with great suspicion as he placed his hands on the side of the mahogany casket and bowed his head, muttering a prayer. He moved away, sitting on a pew at the far end of the room.

Hannibal led Clarice over to the casket, his head bowed. She knew he was upset, from what she had read Hollie had been Hannibal's only _true _friend over all these years, even after his incarceration. She took his hand reassuringly in her own smaller one. Looking into the coffin sadness was etched further into her features, the plaster death mask was a pale white, flawless, emotionless cast of Hollie Gladwin. Starling finally saw what March had placed within the coffin, a single photo, creased and yellowing at the edges. Hannibal reached into his suit jacket pocket and removed a single white rose, placing it beneath her pale, folded hands.

"Mortem optabat invenire possis vivere in pace." He whispered it, Lecter's voice was soft, the words spoken with the skill of an experienced actor. Hannibal held onto Clarice's hand tightly as he turned away from the coffin and they took their places on a pew.

_Deutschlandlied _was played by the organ above and the inhabitants of the church stood, a few muttering the words, others too overcome with grief to realize what was happening. When the anthem had finished Gerhard Schröder stood and walked into the centre of the room, indicating for everyone to take their seats once more.

"Colonel Hollie Gladwin was a true patriot of our country, throughout her life she gave everything she could to help defend it and sacrifices such as that should be honoured. Although there are some who have accused her of being a traitor," His small beady eyes shot a glance over at the old gentleman in the corner.

"She will not be remembered as one. She once stated that no dictator, no invader could hold a population by force of arms alone, there is no greater power in the universe than the need for freedom, against that tyrants and armies cannot stand. She fought for the freedom of _everyone_. The colonel fought against the Soviets, and even fought those evils within our own lands, all for the freedom and peace of the ordinary man. Hollie Gladwin will be remembered with the honour and dignity she deserves, may her soul rest in peace." The room was silent, the only noises was the battering of rain and wind outside and a few more members of the public who came in to pay their respects.

"Now, I believe we should hear some words from family and friends."

The pig-faced German sat back down and almost immediately the isolated, elderly gentleman stood and took centre stage. His posture was perfect and he stood with his gloved hands tightly behind his back. He took a deep breath, composing himself.

"My niece and I never got along, I never got to know her and whenever I did have the chance my _beliefs_ came between us. From what I saw of her and everything that she has done... I can say that this is a true loss to our fatherland and will not be forgotten, for in the midst of death a new life is born and her sacrifice will allow others to have their new life, their _Vita Nuova. _We must take this as the hand of providence, guiding us towards a better life, a life not centred around Hollie was, in reality, an opium pushing..."

Clarice watched from her seat as Xavier's face boiled, Wolfgang's eye twitched slightly and his fingers drummed at the hard-shell pistol holder at his side. Obviously they didn't agree with this man. Even Hannibal's jaw clenched in anger when the man spoke.

"Enough!" Wolf had stood suddenly, all eyes gathering to him. "We are here to mourn the loss of a good friend, a great comrade, and a loyal patriot; not to point out her faults. If we were to point out anyone's faults it would be yours, _Standartenführer _Reiche. Hollie could look herself in the mirror after the war, you couldn't could you? That's why you ran to Argentina with Mengele, that's why your wife left you and that's why your family disowned you. You disrespect her by coming here today!"

"How dare you, boy! You have no right to speak of my family! You know nothing of what happened, especially when it concerned my wife and I did _not _run away! I am no coward!" March stood then.

"Of course you are but this is not the place - and definitely not the time - to argue over our differences, to argue the past. Leave it till later." The Standartenführer clapped his hands.

"Well said, Oberstleutnant." he mocked.

"Sit down." March growled, leaving no room for argument as he pushed Wolfgang back down into his seat before moving to the front to speak.

"We have all referred to Hollie Gladwin as Colonel but... but we seem to forget that she was a doctor, that she was a woman and that she had a life beyond her deeds in the war. Hollie was a caring woman, As we all know, life took away the things she held so close to her lost Hans Graf-Reinhardt too early for any of us and now we have lost her to the same man. I remember a time, in the tank corps, she was taken to the general field hospital after being crushed for 26 hours beneath a pile of rubble and they took her in for surgery. She survived. The amazing thing was, while she was recovering, Hollie limped around taking care of the other men in that hospital... She cared more about them than herself, as she always has. You know, from that hospitalization we - the men under her command - learnt that doctors should never be left to prescribe their own medication." He gave a dry laugh before his face adopted his solemn look once more.

"She was an amazing woman, an amazing commander. I am proud to have served under her and I am proud to say that I was her friend." He bit his lip, forcing himself to continue.

"Throughout everything that had happened I stayed at her side, even if - sometimes - it was not literal. I just... I wish that I could have been there to help her away from death one last time. One last fucking time... another time that she just had to care more about someone else..." He angrily wiped at his eyes before looking up one last time.

"I think that... that Wolf would like to... No." He frowned. "Well then we are left with der Doktor. Herr Doktor, you have the floor." Hannibal stood and walked slowly towards the front of the room, his head inclined downwards, posture perfectly erect, hands behind his back. He approached Xavier and gave him a supportive handshake, using both hands, before allowing March to return to his seat. He addressed the audience.

"Doctor Gladwin, Hollie, was a ferociously loyal friend. She and I travelled the world together more than once after the war, she never judged me, never questioned anything I had done. She..." He inhaled deeply. "She was a sister to me, even after everything that had happened to me in America she continued to visit me. Hollie Gladwin-Reiche died as she had lived; fighting for what she believed in, fighting to protect her friends and family." Hannibal's voice darkened, "She will not have died in vain."

Clarice saw the look in his eyes; a look of unyielding, bottomless pain and the swell of revenge that only Vladis Grutas had seen and he was not alive to tell the tale. The people around her seem to quiver from fear and that simple fact stated how much power he emitted with his voice alone. After Hannibal took in the palpable fear and ended with a small sad smile, he looked to Clarice. She knew what he was asking. Did she want to speak? What could she say that the others had not already? Hannibal's last words seem to set a certain ambiance that she would not be able to follow up on but, always determined, she decided she should at least try, for Hollie... The woman who had saved her, had given her own life to allow Clarice to continue with her own.

Clarice nodded and stood as Hannibal stepped made her way up to the podium where Hannibal met her at the stairs to escort her to the microphone. A deep breath helped focus her conscious thoughts.

"Everyone here has known Gladwin for so long and many have seen sides of her most others have not. I only met her one year ago. We worked together on the New York police force. It was when I first took over for her in the criminal investigation department. At the time she wasn't as caring towards me but more so towards the other detectives on our team. She told me straight out that she wouldn't trust me until I proved my worth because of all the hard work and time spent looking after her team. It took time but eventually I saw her for what she was; she cared for the men under her command... because she considered them family.

I suppose I didn't get to know her as deeply as most of you. But I can agree on the things that are being said about her. Gladwin was always giving and never asked for things in return. She is... was a natural caregiver. There is one thing no one has said about her, which I believe to be the truest statement: she was a teacher. She taught me so much, in such a little time, and she continues to teach me." Clarice side glanced to Hannibal. "I will always count her among the few who taught me the most precious of life's lessons: The best things are worth fighting for. I see so many sad faces and too many tears being shed. I know, it's what I want to do right now, but she wouldn't want it. I believe Hollie would want us all to celebrate her life not mourn her passing. Hollie touched all of us in some way and she will forever live on through our lives."

Clarice turned to Hannibal, He took her hand with a light kiss and escorted her down the steps back to their seats. An elderly vicar stood and addressed the procession.

"I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth..."

**HLHLHLHL**

Clarice held onto Hannibal's arm tightly as she watched the casket lower into the ground, slowly sinking beneath the earth, the silver plaque glinted in the light. A final volley of shots was fired by the honour guard and the coffin hit the bottom of the grave.

Starling almost jumped when the music started. She glanced up at Hannibal who was staring into the grave before taking a cursory glance over to March who stood with his hands behind his back and his feet shoulder-width apart. Looking distant he began to sing, his voice was deep, filled with pride and emotion.

"_Ich hatt einen Kameraden, Einen bessern findst du nit. Die Trommel schlug zum Streite..." _

Clarice watched as Wolfgang took his place next to March and sung along, then a few other men followed suit. She didn't have to understand what they were singing to realize the depth of emotion it held for everyone. When they got about halfway through the second verse a crack of lightning resounded throughout the graveyard and the heavens opened, a cold, salty rain fell down upon the mourners. Finally the men finished singing, not caring that they were now soaked, and, as the gravedigger began to shovel the dirt back into the grave, they began to walk away, heads down. March took a last, fleeting look at the coffin with some unfathomable expression on his face.

Hannibal took Clarice's hand and slowly led her away as they began to leave something caught Clarice's eye and she turned around quickly, looking at the gravestone next to Gladwin's: _Hans Tobias Graf-Reinhardt beloved husband, patriot and to-be father. 1955 - 1997. _

"Yes, Clarice; that is her husband." Lecter's smooth tone drifted through the cold air.

"W.. Why does it say to-be father?"

"Clarice," He sighed. "Read the journals; you will understand then. Come now, we should leave." He said frowning and they began to leave again. As they got closer to the front of the church the couple could hear the booming voices of an argument. Hannibal stepped in front of Clarice as they turned the corner. He was unsurprised to see Wolf and Gladwin's uncle arguing.

"You nazi bastard! You had no right to turn up, she hated you so much she struck you from her own fucking will!" The elderly gentleman stood, unmoving and unfazed by Wolfgang. He laughed sardonically.

"You have a cheek to say that, boy! You _are _the one who signed the papers for her to... to give herself to that communist bastard in the first place."

"It's because of you she got into that situation! If you had allowed her and her mother to live in the west she may not have had these problems."

"Insolent child! I could not allow them into my house! No matter how pure ayrean my niece was she was too... too opinionated! She refused to learn her rightful place in this world. There was nothing I could do for her and why should I?!"

"Because she's still your fucking family!" Wolf screamed, the vein in his neck pulsed madingley, Starling thought it would burst through the skin if he raised his blood pressure much more.

"If you managed to see past your fascist, right winged views you might have realized that! And what do you mean her _rightful place?!_" The Standartenführer's jaw tightened.

"You know precisely what I mean, boy!" He spat. "She should have been in the kitchen cooking, cleaning the house and waiting dutifully for her husband to come home from work. Not fighting and not - under any fucking circumstances - practising medicine!"

He turned his nose up a little, the corner of his mouth sneered. Wolf's large, meaty hand flew through the air towards the elder gentleman who swiftly dodged the punch and, extending his cane so as to trip Pagel up, quickly regained his composure.

"You know, I think we used to train men better, boy! Get up and fight me properly!"

Wolf stood shakily and charged at the elderly gentleman once more. Reiche was prepared for Wolf, quickly moving out of the way, positioning himself behind the larger man, wrapping his cane around the younger man's neck. He kicked the back of Wolf's leg, bringing him to the ground, before lifting the man's head up.

"Anything more to say, boy?!" He sneered in Wolf's ear, the chief of police remained silent but struggled against the older man.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, I can snap your neck faster than you can even think about killing me."

"We've all wanted to kill you for years, Verräter!" Wolf spat. The corner of Reiche's lip curled into a sneer and he removed his cane from around Wolf's neck, the tip of it just brushed against Pagel's hairline.

"If anyone were the traitor it would be my niece! Now, take it back, boy! JETZT!" He shouted, his voice clear and stable but there was a harshness Wolf hadn't heard in a long time.

"No." He said in a quiet, defiant tone.

"Fine." He lifted the cane and swung it in a great arc, like an axe, prepared to bring it down full force. Pagel slowed his breathing and tried desperately to calm himself. As he heard the slight woosh of wood slicing through air he straightened his posture, preparing himself for the blow.

It never came.

He slowly turned around and saw Lecter holding the cane in one hand and the Standartenführer standing across from him.

"You will stop this petty fighting at once." Lecter's voice was dangerously low. "Herr Pagel, you of all people should know not to let your emotions override your better judgement and you, Herr Reiche..."

"Standartenführer!" He snapped and Lecter's eyes narrowed.

"_Standartenführer_, should have - after so many years - learnt not to show your views so publicly. I needn't remind you of what happened the last time you did so." He growled and the older gentleman stepped back but his gaze did not leave Hannibal's.

"Herr Doktor." March's unemotional voice sliced through the silence along with a slight click of his heels.

"The car is here, unless you wish to stay and watch the parade marches?" Hannibal looked over to Clarice who shook her head.

"No, thank you, Xavier." The lieutenant-colonel inclined his head and allowed Hannibal begin to walk towards the car.

"I will catch up with you in a moment, Herr Doktor." March walked over to the elderly gentleman.

"Verdammten Nationalsozialist verräter!" He quickly slammed his knee into Reiche's abdomen and the elderly man fell to the wet, flagstone. "You do not deserve to live after what you did to her, get out the country before I decide to kill you myself."

He removed his boot from the Standartenführer's neck and briskly walked away to take the American and her doctor home.

**Epilogue. **

Far away from the Baltic rain and grey of Berlin, in the dying embers of warm sunlight, sat a couple on a private beach. The woman lent back into the tanned, equally scarred body of her partner, their right hands were joined together while her free hand was spread out in the white sand, smoothing over the tiny grains. Her blonde hair fanned out over his chest and shoulder, he buried his nose within her sweet hair and inhaled deeply, it smelt of honey and vanilla. Her grey-blue eyes opened. They no longer held that apathetic, burdened look. They no longer showed the pain of war and suffering. They were no longer glazed with an opioid cloud. That had all been locked away, beneath the layers of concrete and steel that had been created for her. She was now free. She was no longer Colonel Hollie Gladwin. No longer Doctor Hollie Gladwin. Simply put, she was Hollie Gladwin - the woman and nothing more. Here in this place politics and the past did not matter, it was not remembered, the man planned to live out his days with the woman he loved and - after sixteen years - that had finally come true.

**HLHLHLHLHL**

_Singapore, 1997. _

_I have left him to die as he did to my darling Graf. I have left him in that dark, rotting basement. His haggard face flashes in front of me in the half light. The dark sunken eyes begging me to spare him, hoping that I have some mercy for him. I have none. He mumbles incoherent prayers in Russian. The bastard is held to the chair by his thumbs; locked in thumbscrews that are bolted to the fraying, splintered arms of the wooden chair. _

_"Gde tvoya ulybka ischezla, Chekhova? Pochemu ty vyglyadishʹ tak grustno?" I walk over to him, twirling the silver dagger between my fingers. _

_"Let's put a smile back on that face, eh?" I smirk as I grab his head roughly, slipping the cold metal between his lips, tugging it gently at the right edge first before pulling it all the way through, giving him a half smirk. Frowning, I tilt my head to examine him as he tries to scream again, the blood seeping into his mouth causing him to gag and choke. I finish my work but quickly mirroring my actions onto the left side of his mouth. _

_"There's that smile, Chekhov." My face remains impassive but there's a slight teasing tone within my voice as I place the dagger within my jacket pocket. He is crying again. _

_"I... I am sorry..." The thick Russian accent bawls out. "I... I was only..."_

_"Following orders? Of course you were but it doesn't make you any less responsible." _

_"B... but..." I growl and pull my pistol out, shooting him in the knee without even bothering to look. _

_"You cry or even try to apologize one more time and I'll..." _

_"Please, Oberst... I... I never meant to... I... sorry..." _

_I shoot him once more and he screams in pain again. I take a quick glance over to the metal door at the top of the steps to make sure it's still sealed. It is. I walk over to the old, rusting metal generator and hook up some power leads. The copper wires trail behind me like a tail as I walk back over to the hysterical Russian. At the ends of the leads are two copper spikes. I hold them firmly in my palms and kneel down on my haunches to look Chekhov in the eyes. He looks back at me, his eyes bloodshot, crimson mixes with his hazelnut eyes that have glassed over. I place a soft hand on his cheek and he leans into the caring touch. My free hand hovers over his bloodied, exposed knee. I slam my fist down onto it suddenly. His wail almost deafens me as I force the copper down through the layers of muscle and bone. I can see the fibres of muscle ripping away from each other, blood begins to seep from the wound, covering my hand and I quickly repeat the process on his other knee. When I am finished I walk back over to the generator and stand by the power switch. _

_"Goodbye, Pavel Chekhov. May god forgive you; I never will." I flip the switch and walk away, his screams and burning body are left behind me as I slam the metal door shut, locking the bolts quickly. _

**HLHLHLHL **

Starling throws the book away in disgust, curling up further into the sofa. Hannibal looks up from his own book and takes a sip of the brandy next to him.

"What is wrong, Clarice?" He enquired curiously as he poked the fire.

"S... she killed someone... t... tortured them and..."

"Yes, she did." Lecter replied calmly. "After her husband was killed. I told you of this, Clarice. Why do you think she was almost emotionless when you met her? Never getting angry... she lost that during these months." He picked the leather notebook from the floor and gently placed it onto the coffee table. He took her hand and kissed it gently, placing it against his cheek as he knelt down in front of her.

"But, now you must not dwell on what Hollie has done in her life, it is our new beginning, Clarice."

**So... that's the end of that guys... erm, well it's been fun writing this I guess... Haha, wasn't really good with updating but hey! I've started A-Levels now... and I might have to sign up for the BMAT this year and apply for Cambridge Uni' ... Scary! Anyways... Thanks to everyone who's stuck with this, you are all amazing! Thanks to Twisted Love Stories, Major, LH and Grymm... You've all kept me going! But everything must end eventually... **

**Thanks to all of you :) ~ Hollie x**


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